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For over six decades, Charlemagne Palestine (b. 1947, New York) has been a pioneering composer, performer, and multimedia artist, celebrated for his ecstatic sonic explorations and ritualistic, metaphysical performances. Emerging from the cross-disciplinary New York art scene of the 1960s and ’70s, he helped shape a heretical edge of minimalism alongside figures like Conrad, Riley, Niblock, and Glass. Trained as a Jewish cantor and later as the carillonneur at St. Thomas Church, Palestine cultivated a deep fascination with resonance and overtone—an obsession that evolved through his use of percussion, early synthesizers, and monumental piano works, influencing artists from John Cale to Nick Cave.

Animated by a spirit of ecstatic play and what he calls his »meschugge« (Yiddish for »crazy«) sensibility, Palestine’s universe blends the sacred and the absurd, filled with soft toys, ritual gestures, and immersive sound environments. Rejecting the »minimalist« label in favor of a maximalist, »spontanimalist« approach, he creates long-form, resonant performances that transform spaces into vibrating, living organisms—opening portals into the nature of time, sound, and devotion.

In the same vein, the aptly titled live record »The Organ is the World’s Greatest Synthesizer« – performed during the Sonic Acts Festival at Amsterdam’s Oude Kerk in 2025, and taking its title and cover art from a drawing realized by Palestine himself during the concert – adds to his opaque yet vibrant personal mythology and intimate transcendence, marking a return to the Staalplaat catalog after »Fffroggssichorddd« (2020) and »Music for Big Ears« (2001).

Beginning with a resonating bell and his falsetto overtone singing, then surrendering to the endless, wild soundscapes of tone-feeling and beat frequencies generated by the church’s organ, across 40+ minutes, single sound sources evolve into clusters, entangle fully with one another, and establish their own spatial existence and aural architectures. We witness the traces of something that can be described as a perpetual performance, a test for the ever-changing interaction between artist, instrument, space and, ultimately, us.

Since Palestine has always defined his execution as a form of anti-composition - of simply »being in the music« as if inhabiting a space - the true power of »The Organ is the World’s Greatest Synthesizer« lies in encapsulating a moment of Palestine’s practice in its most authentic, live dimension. Sound becomes at once subtle substance and strange telluric force, animating physical forms from some unknown channel beyond and within, accessible only through our sensorium. The point in this liminal temple of tone, timbre and frequency is not to learn anything but to simply enter. Palestine earns once again his self-given title of contemporary shaman by keeping this sonic portal open, allowing us to witness and make it last.

»I have always felt and heard and mixed the sounds in my world as liquids not as solids. Sonic liquids are material that is endlessly transformable. But I’m not crazy about people who go around defining stuff.«

Cloud Holding is NYC-based Bryce Hackford's fifth album, and first for Futura Resistenza. Seven sound sculptures are coaxed out of recorded improvisations by a group of musicians--Ka Baird, Shelley Burgon, Alice Cohen, Michael Hurder, Dominika Mazurova, Camilla Padgitt-Coles--and worked into formless figures that express an always drifting present. Guided by the Suzuki Nobara--a kind of electric koto with many traditional instrument sounds and unique pitch adjustment controls--and the lyric-less utterances of the human voice, Cloud Holding traces delicate outlines in a collaborative sound world that shines with mysterious, searching affinity.

The 3rd album from Jana Horn was written in New York and recorded in the Texas desert. Horn went to Sonic Ranch studio with her trio (Jade Guterman - bass / Adam Jones - drums) to record her self-titled record, comprised of 10 sonic landscapes which don't quite sound like they're from anywhere. Past comparisons to Yo La Tengo and Phil Elverum are still apt on "Love" and "All in bet", while spare post-punk rhythms drive "Designer" and
"Don't Think."
In 2023 The New Yorker stated: "Horn's work aligns with a fraternity of the lonely that cuts across genres: traces of Young Marble Giants, Syd Barrett, and Broadcast all waft through her songs."

The Sha La Das are Bill Schalda and his talented sons Paul, Will and Carmine, originating from Staten Island, NY.
Your Picture, the Sha La Das’ second album and the first release on producer Tom Brenneck's own label, Diamond West Records, is yet another singular testament to the stirring power of blood harmony and a celebration of the enduring love story between Bill and the family matriarch, Linda.
Traces of old memories flicker through Your Picture. Bill’s classic songwriting and lush vocal arrangements get whirled into new territory, updating doo-wop with the bottom-heavy groove and swirling pop of Brenneck’s lean, spacious production. “We brought in some psychedelic sounds and drew inspiration from deep soul records to the Beatles and Beach Boys alike,” Brenneck says.
Love radiates throughout Your Picture, flowing out from the shimmering melodies Bill and his sons produce. Bill Schalda and sons are living their musical dream—Your Picture is the proof.

Australian producer Mike Buhl returns to Denude with Modern Explorer II, a four-track meditation on movement, memory and the spaces in between. Techno, downtempo and atmospheric sound design become tools of enquiry here: rhythms are less about function than about asking how far repetition can carry a feeling. From the searching lift of “Voyage Return” and the focused pulse of “Focal” to Vril’s dubbed, peak-time reimagining and the gently dissolving closer “They Were Always”, the record traces a quiet arc from momentum to reflection. Modern Explorer II feels like a small philosophy of the night: music for travelling without arriving, for dancers who know that the journey on the inside is at least as important as the one on the floor.

Unearthed from the original DAT at Strange Weather Studios in South London, Get Fucked's Unearthed Stash traces a chronological journey through the legendary group's earliest recording sessions, from the raw chaos of their 1999 debut album to the more refined dub house explorations that led into their second LP.

Sourced from the best surviving master DATs this collection brings together remastered classics, lost versions and previously unreleased edits, offering unfiltered look into one of the UK underground's most fearless creative period.

Each track has been carefully remastered to preserve the saturated punch, tape grit and raw energy of the original sessions, while expanding definition for modern sound systems.

Pressed on 180g heavyweight black vinyl, Unearthed Stash is strictly for collectors and true heads preserving the energy and attitude that made Get Fucked pioneers of the London underground sound. A raw document of a lost era, revived.

Archival Gold. From The Source. Unearthed at Last.

Nine years forward Sublee returns to Metereze with an album that echoes a
life lived in sound.
Crafted like a sonic memoir, “Youmanity” traces the emotional arc from the
energy of packed dancefloors to the introspective solitude on the road and the run
back home.
His signature hypnotic strips of the genres, acid flashbacks and immersive ambient
landscapes are stitched together with raw field recordings from airports, sleepless
backstage corridors and the stillness of nature as the world drifts by.
Intimate yet expansive, Youmanity is a journey through the rhythm and
connection of nightlife and the quiet reflective spaces in between.

Composed by John Williams for George Lucas’s 2005 film "Star Wars: Episode III – Revenge of the Sith," this soundtrack captures the tragic
fall of Anakin Skywalker—his fear of losing Padmé, his desire for recognition, and his growing arrogance lead him down the dark path to
become Darth Vader, an agent of fear across the galaxy. Yet, even within the darkness, traces of light remain. Alongside the series’ iconic themes,
Williams introduces powerful new compositions such as "Battle of the Heroes" and "Anakin vs. Obi-Wan." The album concludes by returning to
the beginning of the saga with "A New Hope and End Credits."

The Italian project M.O.H. makes its debut on Discarded Gems with a striking first EP — a blend of progressive-infused, EBM-rooted cuts that unfold across different atmospheres. From the pulse of peak time to the hazy glow of early morning, this record traces a journeydesigned for both intensity and reflection. It captures the raw energy and timeless spirit of the dancefloor.

A rare gem (Rock Hard - Album of the Month)
This album is an excellent example of what good boogie should sound like, reminiscent of AC/DC in 1977-1978 (La Planète du Stoner Rock)
It's not just a comeback: it's an act of faith. And it's damn convincing (United Rock Nations)

Changes In Air ist ein wunderschönes, langsam fließendes Stück in fünf Teilen für elektronische Orgel, Klavier und modulare Synthese. Es ist das dritte und letzte Album der kanadischen Komponistin Kara-Lis Coverdale aus dem Jahr 2025, nach From Where You Came (Frühling) und A Series of Actions in a Sphere of Forever (Sommer), und vervollständigt eine exquisite Trilogie von Werken, die ihre lang erwartete Rückkehr zur Musikaufzeichnung feiern.

2025 Repress

At the end of the day, it's about human touch, personal connection and emotional reactions.
With great pleasure we are more than happy to welcome Session Restore and Bernhard Hudalla to the family with a superb debut 12" for the Mojuba sublabel a.r.t.less. A friendship and collaboration that connects musical dots between Hanover and Leipzig resulting in this release called Pathfinder EP. Session Restore might be familiar to some of you through his label rauh, from the party series he's doing in and around Hanover over the last couple of years or as one of the finest vinyl DJs the city has to offer. The debut EP for the Mojuba sub label is a true love letter in four parts to deep and dubby Techno with an emotional touch. As always, let the music do the talking and enjoy! Limited edition in hand-pulled screen-printed cover.

One Instrument welcomes Morning Seance, composer and sound artist, originally from Italy and based in Vienna. On this debut LP, Morning Seance traces a drifting narrative composed of unstable harmonies, fluid structures, and ghostlike forms. The album unfolds like a dream told in fragments, oscillating between fluctuating pulses and decaying transmissions, from nocturnal stillness to acoustic mirages. The first half of the record moves through zones of suspended tension and evanescent contours, where tracks like “Be faster than your own depression” and “The tenderness of our own autobiography” sketch fragile architectures of affect. The second half enters a more spectral terrain — “Breakfast in a night club,” “A visit to the Brion-Vega tomb” — not places, but agglomerates of sonic sensation, detached from any personal frame.

With each piece, the music dissolves and reconstitutes itself, resisting finality or form, and doing so with an indestructible joy that hums beneath the wreckage. This is degenerate ambient music: anti-geometric and subject to emotional weather — not a refuge, but a slow collapse of structure and purity, where atmosphere gives way to excess and disobedience.

The album is crafted entirely from a single source: the Roland Alpha Juno-1. Despite this constraint, it achieves a vast sound spectrum, transforming one synthesizer’s voice into a layered landscape of textures and moods.

The electronic music of Morning Seance is built on constant variation and intricate, looping patterns with no clear beginning or end. This variation is not simply applied to an audio element, but enacted as a compositional logic — avoiding mechanical combinations and obvious rhythms. The result is a mutable mass of audio matter and tonal debris, guiding the listener through richly divergent environments.

Lukah’s unprecedented trajectory shatters new heights with A Lost Language Found, his most thoughtful, sonically-diverse record yet. With the multiplatinum OG Statik Selektah on production duties, Lukah’s by now iconic, razor-sharp pen-game goes toe-to-toe with some of the best. Trading verses with Houston innovator Bun B, Memphis legend 8 Ball, and the larger than life Killer Mike, all parties involved operate at the peak of their skill. The first of what will be multiple collaborations with heavyweight hip-hop producers, this new LP establishes what we already knew in our hearts: Lukah is here to take over.

The stage set to deliver this latest opus is intensely personal: in the heart of his community, Lukah holds court with his trusted fellows at his great grandmother’s house in French Fort, Memphis, a historically black neighborhood long rec-ognized as a stately, proud vision of Black suburbia in a city still healing from deep racial trauma. Recently laid to rest in Elmwood Cemetery, the pain and strength of mourning her influence is present in the deep lyrics of A Lost Lan-guage Found, where Lukah traces not just his own legacy, but that of the linguistically rich and diverse dialects of his people. The cover image depicts the game room of the house, a place that once hosted civil rights leaders and revolu-tionaries, now a monument both to a history of leadership and to its future. For the first time, Lukah himself appears on the album art to mark this significant occasion, flanked by his partners, the symbolic source of knowledge in his hand. Listening to Lukah spit has always been a privilege and a revelation. His artistic power lies in uncovering secrets thru torrents of lucid, poetic rhymes. The listener is invited to share in this bountiful feast. Witness the real god expansion.

The album is available as a limited edition vinyl release of 500 copies in gatefold jacket.

Recital releases The Holy Restaurant, the new full-length album by Derek Baron, and their first solo LP since Curtain (Recital, 2020).

The album is built from years of miniature transcriptions of improvisations, functioning in many ways as a sister to Curtain. Half-thoughts and mistakes are revisited, gilded, and illuminated. The floorboards of the album are laid with piano, organ, string pads, while serrated accruements (distortions, flourishes, and recording interferences) step and drop overhead. The resulting conflux, as Baron notes in the accompanying booklet “becomes the point and the problem to explore.”

The second track “Oven Girls” opens with us galloping on a horse in some video-game meadow on a bed of MIDI strings. Abruptly, a helicopter soars over us and we transition to a latticed guitar and woodwind exploration. The album rolls on in this fashion, juxtaposing musical half-sentences within a museum of sounds rag-picked from history and daily life. Emotional interviews with Midwestern friars who build and sell caskets are set against gothic piano and guitar duets. On “Music in the Casket,” A disorienting and hilariously epic guitar solo erupts. The penultimate titular piece, “The Holy Restaurant,” sets a text written by Baron’s grandfather. A small chorus voices his words, echoing the humanistic storytelling of “Blue” Gene Tyranny’s A Letter From Home. Under sunlit piano progressions, a fleet of smokey trumpets emerges.

Running throughout the album is a series of “traces”: short melodic phrases painted over again and again with different real and MIDI instrumentation. The “luxurious asceticism of doubling” as Baron puts it. They explain, “Part of the allure for me is that the ‘original’ material is itself kind of thin, sketchy, meaningless, maybe calling attention to itself only by way of a felicitous mistake. Hearing, transcribing, and learning what was basically only ever played first on accident becomes the guiding concern.”

The album’s shifting, variegated forms and voices pass quickly; the record feels both comforting and elusive, suitable for any hour of the day.

The Holy Restaurant features guest players Ed Atkins, Lucy Liyou, Quentin Moore, Emily Martin, Dominic Frigo, Jacob Wick, and several of Baron’s family members. It is released in a limited edition vinyl pressing of 200 copies, accompanied by a booklet of effusive program notes by the composer, alongside an assemblage of photographs, scores, and artwork.

Detroit-born artist, Jalen Elk Star unveils his debut LP, ESIN on L.I.E.S. Known in certain circles as filmmaker, music producer, playwright, and collagist, Jalen often draws from controversial themes to craft modern avant-garde works redefining the way art is seen in today’s chaotic universe. After years working on diverse projects under various aliases, his shift to a more liberated creative process under this new moniker has allowed his vision to reach a broader audience, continuing the path with the music on this new lp.

ESIN, a 13-track sonic collage, builds on his past, blending raps, noise, ambience, samplers, drum machines and synths into a raw, vibrant narrative. This work traces Jalen’s journey between his cities, Detroit and Chicago, offering a profound glimpse into his dynamic, limitless world of sound and vision. Something along the lines of the dusty crunched out vapors of the 2010s getting in a car crash with the abstractions of Rammellzee. A headtrip for the headphones.

Developed over three years across residencies, tours, and periods of deep listening, “Your Whistle Tells of Landscape” finds Australian sound artist Alexandra Spence continuing her investigations into the perceptual entanglements of sound, place, memory, and imagination. Like much of the artist’s work, it unfolds at the liminal edge between the real and the imagined — between what is heard and what is remembered.

Composed from a constellation of materials gathered across sites and seasons — snowscapes recorded in Vancouver, insect choruses from a Sydney backyard, ceramic fragments unearthed while mudlarking with tinysound — it renders an intimate cartography of experience: one shaped equally by ecological resonance and internal drift. Each piece traces a kind of imaginary geography, where sonic ephemera become proxies for topography, weather, or myth.

The album is informed by time spent at EMS (Stockholm) and MESS (Melbourne), where Spence deepened her engagement with microtonality and tuned feedback systems, and by dialogues with sympathetic artists such as Tashi Wada and Patrick Farmer. Sound materials were sourced from Serge Modular systems, a custom lyre built by Tim Wall, amplified objects, handmade electronics, and Spence’s own field recordings captured within rockpools, beneath sand, and among a flock of sheep in the French Pyrenees. On “Magenta,” a collaboration with Delphine Dora, the domestic and mythic intertwine, as layers of voice, environmental recordings, and Halldorophone feedback drift in and out of one another like overlapping weather systems.

Despite its diverse material palette, the album resists spectacle or accumulation. Instead, it moves with a quiet sense of continuity and a rich interiority — less a sequence of compositions than a set of situated attunements. Across its duration, sounds seem to murmur, glint, or hover right at the edge of presence, invoking a listening practice that is as much about orientation as it is about reception. These are pieces not simply about place, but of place — etched with the grains of time, vibration, and breath.

Young Gun Silver Fox are the captains of AM Waves, setting sail towards an isle where melodies soak the shoreline and grooves sway like palm trees. Their route traces a natural progression fromWest End Coast, an album that cast Andy Platts (Young Gun) and Shawn Lee (Silver Fox) as musical virtuosos of SoCal-infused pop. AM Waves does more than duplicate the perfection of West End Coast. It improves it.

Recorded at The Shop in London and Roffey Hall in the English countryside, AM Waves burnishes the blend between the duo's modern aesthetic and their sumptuously crafted homage to '70s-styled pop, rock, and soul. "This music hits a certain spot for me personally that nothing else quite does," says Shawn, who produced the album amidst his projects for Saint Etienne, Shawn Lee's Ping Pong Orchestra, and several other acts. "It's real high-caliber music. It's easy and breezy to listen to but it's really hard to make. Every aspect is A game."

The A game behind AM Waves fuels 43 minutes of Young Gun Silver Fox in peak form. "AM Waves is much more instinctive," says Andy, whose penchant for writing irresistible hooks and melodies also shapes his role as lead singer and lyricist/composer for the band Mamas Gun. "It's more vivid. You can see the clarity to the colors of AM Waves whereas West End Coast is slightly more impressionist, as it were."

Originally issued as a single in September 2017, "Midnight in Richmond" is the anchor of AM Waves. "I hit one chord, which I'd never played before, and the song sort of wrote itself," notes Shawn. "It was intuitive. In many ways, the primary function of what I'm doing is trying to find that chord that opens a door and takes you someplace else. Those chords have magic." Andy embellishes the song's appeal by nimbly juxtaposing wistful emotions with a sun-kissed melody, his voice evoking richly drawn memories. The qualities that make "Midnight in Richmond" an instant classic abound throughout the album.

"Lenny" and "Take It or Leave It" spotlight Andy's versatility as a songwriter. The former was inspired by a dream he had where Lenny Kravitz owned a bar. "It was surreal," he says. "He was polishing the glasses and just serving me hit after hit." Like swimming through moonshine, Andy languorously savors every syllable in the song. "Take It or Leave It" is pure pop bliss. "That was one of those songs that fell out in half an hour," he says. "I had everything and it was done." Shawn adds, "It's such a perfect song in itself. When I listen to it, it's like you've created a record that already existed."

Young Gun Silver Fox introduce a five-piece horn section on "Underdog" that literally trumpets the song's protagonist. Shawn affectionately dubbed them the "Seaweed Horns" in honor of the Seawind Horns, an LA-based unit that recorded with powerhouses like Michael Jackson,Rufus & Chaka Khan,and Earth, Wind & Fire during the late-'70s. Andy explains, "The horns grab another hue of the west coast sound, which is the starting point, but it's also maybe the point where we're injecting a little bit more of ourselves and some outside colors into the familiar west coast palette."

A bounty of treasures course through AM Waves' ebb and flow. "Mojo Rising," which the duo penned with Rob Johnson, is a veritable retreat to paradise. "Sky-bound, heaven sent / Way above the clouds watching shootingstars descend," Andy sings, mirroring the music's celestial undertones. Sensuality contours the notes on "Just a Man," a song that basks in the allure of a woman who leaves "footprints on the water" while "Love Guarantee" is festooned with the Seaweed Horns. "I wanted to bring more of that R&B slickness into the mix," Shawn notes about the latter track. "We hadn't done a tune with that sort of groove." Similar to his work on "Underdog," Nichol Thomson's intricate horn arrangement on "LoveGuarantee"exemplifies another distinction between AM Waves and its predecessor.

"Caroline" occupies a special place on AM Waves, beyond spawning the album title. It tells the story of Radio Caroline, a pirate radio station that broadcast from an offshore vessel during the '60s and '70s. "They played the music that kids wanted to hear, whether it was the old stuff or cutting edge stuff," says Andy. "'Caroline' is about Radio Caroline's eventual capture." Complementing Andy Platts' deft wordplay, which draws parallels between radio airwaves and the station's literal home on the ocean, Shawn Lee layers nearly a dozen different parts on "Caroline," showcasing the vastness of his musicality. "I loved that track as soon as I heard it," Andy continues. "It's a beautiful fusion of me and Shawn."

The Seaweed Horns joinYoung Gun Silver Foxas they detour to the dance floor on "Kingston Boogie." Shawn explains the track's genesis, "I was thinking, what have we not done yet We definitely should get an AOR disco thing happening. I quite like disco. The beat is so metronomic that it allows you to be really sophisticated on top. 'Kingston Boogie' just laid itself out. I call it 'midnight disco.'" With a nod to "Lenny," Andy Platts sets "Kingston Boogie" back at Lenny's Bar, this time revealing a detail or two about its mysterious proprietor as he pours sweet wine and moonshine.

In a sense, AM Waves ends with the beginning. Even before there was Young Gun Silver Fox, there was "Lolita," the first song Andy Platts and Shawn Lee wrote together and a crowd-pleasing staple of the duo's live sets. The tale of a femme fatale who harbors a secret was recorded for West End Coast but instead furnished the B-side to "Long Way Back" as well as a bonus track on the North American edition of the album. Despite the song's checkered trajectory, its infectious chorus sparked the brighter, more buoyant orientation of AM Waves.

Like the moon pulling the tide, Young Gun Silver Fox are a magnet for good songs. "We're both so obsessed and constantly interested in music-making," says Andy. "We're both thinking about it all the time. When you know you have an accomplice with you that's the same as you, it's very liberating. Suddenly, worlds of color start to appear." Indeed, AM Waves is elemental in its power to induce pleasure. Dive right in.

Christian John Wikane

(New York City / February 2018)

Emily A. Sprague's Cloud Time traces an audio-spiritual journey through time and place, recorded across a long-awaited debut tour of Japan in the fall of 2024. Compiled from environmental improvisations captured in and for the moment, material at once welcoming, responsive, and inimitable, the album distills a voyage guided by psychic wayfaring, unbound presence, and activating performance for a reciprocal exchange with space, listener, and each fully engaged instant. The Japanese tour documented on Cloud Time held an almost mythic significance for Sprague, taking on properties of her own sonic white whale. After many near-departures and dropped plans to play in the country, "the empty spaces of cancelled trips and forgotten music turned into strange little misty spirits that I felt followed by," she says. "When I began preparing for the tour, I couldn't shake a sense that the invitation to Japan was more about opening myself up to this new place instead of bringing something into it tightly under my control. Improvisation has always been such a pillar in my music practice, and I really wanted to meet the country, spaces and people through that process." To amplify these intuitive whispers on-stage, Sprague reimagined her time-tested live rig, designed to be as free from error as possible, as a looser, more flexible set up that would allow her to interface with what was essentially a blank sonic canvas every night. Each performance became a collaboration between environment and instinct, Sprague processing the events, energies, and emotions informing the evening through her new sound ecosystem, and projecting an entirely present and unique version of herself to each open-eared and hearted crowd. "It was very much more than just an act of playing for me, but a total experience of time and place," she says. The seven long-form pieces that plot the course of Cloud Time, excerpted from over eight hours of recordings archived on the artist's on-stage recorder and generously shared on the album with no additional mixing and only minimal editing, invite listeners to become still in these deep-rooted moments of presence as the album moves from city to city, venue to venue. Cloud Time chronicles material recorded at each tour stop, Sprague selecting and sequencing the album around mood-based storytelling more so than linear chronology. "I tried to make the whole album flow in the way that any one of the complete live performances did," she explains, "while also keeping the spirit of the whole thing as a journey." The result is equal parts travelog, love letter, and impressionistic collage channeled from the potent ferment of a now encased in the glowing amber of memory. Intrinsically inspired by kankyo ongaku, an environmental music philosophy, known both in and widely outside of Japan that tunes into the similarly expansive ethos as Pauline Oliveros' deep listening practice and posits the listener as composer, Cloud Time is ambient music that seems to be listening right back, grounded in heartfelt synthesized frequencies that abundantly hold and heal. Pieces like "Nagoya," "Tokyo 1," and the ten minute "Matsumoto" in particular hum with the atomic resonance of gently tended landscapes, offering space for tuning way in and dropping far out from perspectives that stifle and bind. Cloud Time is an invitation to embrace each moment as both fleeting and eternal, floating by with nothing to grasp onto and absolutely everything to gain. The exercise in acceptance and letting go that Sprague practiced throughout the tour deeply impacted her understanding of self as both a guest and venerable performer. "The process of loving wherever I am, being present and focusing on a clear channel of communication for mind and emotion, rooted so deeply in respect for the space, those within it, and myself, ended up being profoundly healing," she says. "My vision and hope is that this album can be released as a gift back to anyone who either was or wasn't there. A cloud time of life passing by."

Wrong Filament embodies Robert Piotrowicz's creation of fictional traditional music - not studied but invented, a utopian and oniric construct that becomes tangible in sound. These imagined traditions act as communal forces of music-making, resisting dominant structures of power.

The album unfolds in six dense compositions built on rhythm, repetition and minimal melodic gestures that draw on archetypal patterns of Eastern European traditions. Entirely synthetic yet strikingly instrumental in character, they develop as autonomous sound events, expanding into multi-part forms that evoke the physicality of ensemble performance - as if played by an imagined community of musicians.

Rather than reconstruction, Piotrowicz invents forged dances - a pre-techno of sorts, where complex meters and dense textures point to a parallel history of collective sound beyond industrial uniformity. They imagine a utopian and fictional genealogy of collective sound: one where industrial modernity yields to more unstable, communal energies.

This is celebratory music with invocatory charge: calls to dance, echoes of ceremony, microtonal melodies shaped by emotional weight, and traces of Eastern ornamentation stretched through synthetic means. Wrong Filament sacralises performance through sound alone, spinning a world where spectres of collective experience vibrate against the limits of rupture and resistance.

These pieces confront the traces of violence inscribed in body and memory, yet also affirm freedom, emancipation and integration. They manifest celebration, identity and resistance while opening a path toward liberation and shared needs that exceed social, private and intimate categories.

Emily A. Sprague's Cloud Time traces an audio-spiritual journey through time and place, recorded across a long-awaited debut tour of Japan in the fall of 2024. Compiled from environmental improvisations captured in and for the moment, material at once welcoming, responsive, and inimitable, the album distills a voyage guided by psychic wayfaring, unbound presence, and activating performance for a reciprocal exchange with space, listener, and each fully engaged instant. The Japanese tour documented on Cloud Time held an almost mythic significance for Sprague, taking on properties of her own sonic white whale. After many near-departures and dropped plans to play in the country, "the empty spaces of cancelled trips and forgotten music turned into strange little misty spirits that I felt followed by," she says. "When I began preparing for the tour, I couldn't shake a sense that the invitation to Japan was more about opening myself up to this new place instead of bringing something into it tightly under my control. Improvisation has always been such a pillar in my music practice, and I really wanted to meet the country, spaces and people through that process." To amplify these intuitive whispers on-stage, Sprague reimagined her time-tested live rig, designed to be as free from error as possible, as a looser, more flexible set up that would allow her to interface with what was essentially a blank sonic canvas every night. Each performance became a collaboration between environment and instinct, Sprague processing the events, energies, and emotions informing the evening through her new sound ecosystem, and projecting an entirely present and unique version of herself to each open-eared and hearted crowd. "It was very much more than just an act of playing for me, but a total experience of time and place," she says. The seven long-form pieces that plot the course of Cloud Time, excerpted from over eight hours of recordings archived on the artist's on-stage recorder and generously shared on the album with no additional mixing and only minimal editing, invite listeners to become still in these deep-rooted moments of presence as the album moves from city to city, venue to venue. Cloud Time chronicles material recorded at each tour stop, Sprague selecting and sequencing the album around mood-based storytelling more so than linear chronology. "I tried to make the whole album flow in the way that any one of the complete live performances did," she explains, "while also keeping the spirit of the whole thing as a journey." The result is equal parts travelog, love letter, and impressionistic collage channeled from the potent ferment of a now encased in the glowing amber of memory. Intrinsically inspired by kankyo ongaku, an environmental music philosophy, known both in and widely outside of Japan that tunes into the similarly expansive ethos as Pauline Oliveros' deep listening practice and posits the listener as composer, Cloud Time is ambient music that seems to be listening right back, grounded in heartfelt synthesized frequencies that abundantly hold and heal. Pieces like "Nagoya," "Tokyo 1," and the ten minute "Matsumoto" in particular hum with the atomic resonance of gently tended landscapes, offering space for tuning way in and dropping far out from perspectives that stifle and bind. Cloud Time is an invitation to embrace each moment as both fleeting and eternal, floating by with nothing to grasp onto and absolutely everything to gain. The exercise in acceptance and letting go that Sprague practiced throughout the tour deeply impacted her understanding of self as both a guest and venerable performer. "The process of loving wherever I am, being present and focusing on a clear channel of communication for mind and emotion, rooted so deeply in respect for the space, those within it, and myself, ended up being profoundly healing," she says. "My vision and hope is that this album can be released as a gift back to anyone who either was or wasn't there. A cloud time of life passing by." Emily A. Sprague's Cloud Time will be released Friday, October 10th in vinyl, Japanese import CD (via Plancha), and digital editions.

Fetter’s Body of Noise erupts at the threshold between ravey hypnosis and avant-pop experiment, slithering through the hinterlands of unconscious desire. Nine shape-shifting tracks conjure haunted landscapes where beauty refuses clarity and dancefloor logic warps underfoot. Vocals swoon, drift, and demand—stacking into fragments that multiply and weave through saturated pulses and shimmering, snarling synths.

Opening track "Like a Rose" traces a dreamer’s transition into the unstable physics of a perplexing but familiar dream world, where they gradually become lucid. “Beast” follows up humming with shadowed urgency, threading a path through self-sabotage and metamorphosis. “Spathiphyllums” drifts a while in a lush lostness, aching for something new before fracturing into wild, cathartic collapse. Side B’s “Do I Exist? (D.I.E)” and “The Longing” spiral into existential wonder, searching for a human origin story—both personal and collective—against a backdrop of uncertainty, while “Headache” thrusts forward as an absurd and insistent manifesto to stay the course and harness one’s own power within the madness.

Body of Noise is crafted not only for sweating bodies in motion, but for distorting time and opening psychic portals, where surrender becomes strategy and uncertainty transforms into ecstatic navigation. Rooted in all-hardware improvised production and shaped by Fetter’s years of boundary-blurring visual and performance art, their debut LP feels alive and in flux. Reminiscent of a spectral pop chorus trapped in a loop of broken machinery, or a lost broadcast from a dancefloor in a parallel realm, Body of Noise is a journey into chaos, transformation, and a bold refusal to be contained.

About Fetter:
Fetter makes clubby self-destructing noise pop to dance and weep to. Oscillating between ethereal and pounding, their all-hardware, largely improvised live sets take listeners through a foggy wilderness of saturated rhythms and menacing synth lines, a golden voice guiding the way through. Fetter is the stage moniker of multimedia artist Jess Tucker. Their performances take place in clubs as well as galleries, often incorporating video, installation, and interactive performance art elements to create other-worldly surrounds of mesmerizingly unhinged bodies and faces.

In syrupy slow pursuit of a strong 2023 debut, Yungwebster's somnolent sequel is bolstered by pitch-perfect production from Space Afrika and Nathan Melja, who vaporise the rapper's auto-tuned post-Future drawl with euphoric orchestral drones, brittle micro-trap beats and weightless pads.

Over a decade ago at this point, Future released 'Codeine Crazy', the decelerated finale of 'Monster', one of his best-loved mixtapes. The track neatly summarised themes the Atlanta rapper had been circling for years at that point, layering his slurred, lean-dizzy rhymes over producer TM88's rubbery, melancholy synths. "Take all my problems and drink out the bottle," he moaned robotically, using the track's minor key bounce to represent the crushing delirium that followed fame and its tasting menu of intoxicants. It's still Future's high water mark creatively, and its traces can be observed in a full spectrum of contemporary sounds, from 6LACK's downtrodden, self-aware R&B to Lil Uzi Vert's feverish trap. But it's Yungwebster who's taken the haze to its logical conclusion, reimagining the Magic City-sculpted bumps as hypnagogic Actavis- 'n Xanax-hued ambient music. You could argue it was bound to happen - the more you sip, the slower it gets - and plays as a cracked mirror to cloud rap's long-smoked hybrid of Southern psychedelia and post-OutKast eccentricity.

Webster's opiated POV is clearer than ever before on 'II'. Just peep the cracks in his voice on the Space Afrika-produced opener 'Skyfall' as he coughs and splutters over watery samples, booming subs and SA's patented collage of soundtrack-ready strings and sirens. Presented at regular speed and in chipmunked form, it sets the pace for an album that, like its predecessor, constantly fucks with the timeline, pitching the whole master into doubletime or slowing it down to a crawl to present a curved, inebriated narrative rather than a straight line. Even without the tempo switches, Webster singles out beats that accent his warbled rhymes that sound as if they'll fall apart at any moment. French DJ and producer Nathan Melja backs 'Disheveled' with Black Ark-styled oscillations and airlock'd echoes, filtering the bassline until it almost disappears entirely; with room to breathe, Webster's able to take the lead - you might not be able to pick out the words, not entirely at least, but you get the message.

In fact it's Webster's voice that's the revelation on 'II' - with a coherent mix from producer tnotsobad, the nuances and fluttering tonalities emerge more vividly than they have before. It makes the flip between the regular speed and fast on 'Txts Red on iMessage' a textural decision, the different pace shifting the warbled cadences so Webster's voice becomes far more important than the additional elements. And on the album's Space Afrika-produced eight-minute centerpiece 'Crochet / I Swear', Webster's mumbled bio-mechanical whines create a much-needed foil for the decelerated boom-clack and suspended save room ambience. We get to encounter a personality here, not just an aesthetic, so as the album moves into its twilit fourth side, the beatless, voice-led somniferousness of 'YA SA' and ululating 'Phone' come off like a descent into tranquillised sedation. Rap has rarely sounded so chimeric.

First released in 2016, Continuum sees Shook exploring a more introspective side, trading funk for spacious ambient compositions and stripped-down piano work recorded on his Yamaha CP70B. Inspired by Vangelis, Ryuichi Sakamoto, and Japanese Kankyo Ongaku, this is Shook at his most minimal and meditative. A personal journey inward, now reissued on vinyl for the first time.

Living in the present is an album built around the work of American minimalist poet, Robert Lax (1915-2000) who is widely praised for his artistic concept of reduction, in which a pause becomes as important as the things said.

The album brings together the sound of Robert Lax reading his poetry, narrative field recordings by Nicolas Humbert and subtle yet imaginative timbres by Carina Khorkhordina (trumpet) and Miki Yui (electronics) who is also behind the final mixing of the album.

Living in the present is drawing from an archive of audio recordings originally made by film maker Nicolas Humbert while shooting a film on Robert Lax entitled Why Should I Buy A Bed When All That I Want Is Sleep?, ( Nicolas Humbert and Werner Penzel, Germany, 1999) The film was made on the Greek island of Patmos where Lax has lived withdrawn for 3 decades.

More than 25 years after the premiere of Why Should I Buy A Bed When All That I Want Is Sleep?, Humbert, Khorkhordina and Yui are revisiting the original audio material and patiently open worlds within worlds, pointing to new harmonic textures and isolating timbres, synchronizing different layers of time and traces of various locations into a new composition in its own right.

In some ways this album feels like an expansion of the work Humbert and Penzel did with Lax across six years, between 1993 and 1999, where they developed a unique intimacy in their textual-visual collaboration. On two long pieces, for each side of the album, “Where do i begin” and “One moment passes, another comes on” respectively – Yui’s electronics and Khorkhordina’s trumpet interweave beautifully with Humbert’s field recordings, in a manner that shadows the reflective reduction of Lax’s poetry. Indeed, it's no surprise that Lax’s poetry draws musicians into its orbit; it offers the curious a welcoming reduction in which only individual words and syllables represent the essence of language.

Lax’s poetry is notable for its qualities of near-stillness and its capacity to pause the reader’s thought, asking them to hold the sensuality of language for an extended, quietly revelatory moment. His readings on this album share a similar cadence, interested in settling with syllables, with single or several words, for an extended time.

Ultimately, Living in the present unfolds with unforced grace and poetics – one moment passes, then another comes on. (Jon Dale)

»Chitin« captures Berlin-based duo Narval (Peter Strickmann and Evgenija Wassilew) in a series of recordings made during a 2025 residency in the village of Schöppingen, Münsterland. Known for their use of everyday objects, self-built wind and percussion instruments, feedback systems, and small-scale electronics, Narval treat the performance space itself as a collaborator. In Schöppingen, this meant farmhouses, a parish church, a sculptor’s studio, and surrounding cornfields — each site imprinting its acoustics and atmosphere onto the performances. The result is a set of recordings where birds, insects, and ambient traces of rural life seep into the music, blurring the boundary between intentional gesture and environmental chance.

The title refers to chitin: the hard-yet-flexible material that forms insect shells, fungal walls, and crustacean exoskeletons. Like tape or rural matter, it is at once protective and permeable, tactile and intimate — qualities mirrored in the album’s sound world. By working with a deliberately limited palette of tools, Narval allow small sonic details to accumulate into shifting durations, giving each piece the strange, layered texture of surfaces both organic and mechanical. Chitin offers a portrait of site-specific listening where the line between instrument and environment continually dissolves.

Peter Strickmann – objects, smartphone, ceramophone, cornfield, iron bar Evgenija Wassilew – AM radio, prepared Stylophone, feedback, smartphone, Bastl Kastle, iron bar Recorded by Peter Strickmann and Evgenija Wassilew Mastered by Jacob Calland

Metatone is a tonic-containing substance used to help restore health and vitality after illnesses or when you are feeling tired. A metaphor, which perfectly describes Ement's debut album - a mixture of peak-time electro/techno tunes spiced up with the modern traces of EBM, which perfectly fits clubs and festivals. It is a personal dancefloor experience materialization of a non-stop party rebel, who started his music production journey in the periphery and got inspired by his brother's hard dance production experiments. After an intensive exploration of the local and foreign club scene through years of intensive djing, remixing and never-ending afterhours, Ement finalized his recent definition of dance, which launches on the new co-curated PZ Records label.
An unexpected break and a long-lasting limbus of the dancefloor consumption turned out as a perfect slot to reveal one of many underestimated Lithuanian producers, who are too shy and too critical to themselves. It's no fiction, as "How Much Is Too Much" was already noticed and compiled by Dave Clark in his "Whitenoise" radio show.

Some things simply need time to brew. Loek Frey returns to Omen Wapta with his third release on the label: Nayan. The Amsterdam-based artist shares a long-standing friendship with label head Woody92 - keeping each other in motion as artistic peers since the label's inception. Over time, they've built a shared archive of material: sound sketches, tracks, and sonic touchpoints - an ever-evolving third space where their paths continue to meet as they move in parallel. Nayan emerges from this deep-rooted exchange: a distilled six-track release that fuses Frey's cerebral intricacy with the label's primordial uncanniness, reaffirming both as key voices in a yet-to-be-defined sonic realm. Diving into the release, Frey's signature remains intact - tactile, spatial, and rhythmically precise - but a subtle shift is at play. A paring down. A move toward something more reduced, maybe even more patient, yet no less absorbing. The A side leans inward: deep pressure, spectral traces, and an undercurrent of tension that never quite resolves. It's music for staying with, not escaping from. Flip to the B side and the palette widens - kicks land heavier, patterns loosen, textures fill the full frequency field. Still deeply rooted in the Wapta world, but with an assertiveness that whispers rather than shouts. Somewhere between absence and force. With Nayan, Loek Frey carries his Omen Wapta narrative into new territory - merging restless experimentation with dancefloor intention.

Born from a chance encounter in a Villejuif squat over a decade ago, Ciccio & 2mo have cultivated a singular musical language through spontaneous and genre-defying collaborations — notably around cult French band Cheveu.
The duo brings together two key figures from the fringes of the European underground: Olivier Demeaux (aka 2mo), a pioneer of France’s electronic avant-garde, leading projects like Heimat and Accident du Travail (Teenage Menopause, Bruit Direct), known for his explorations across lo-fi synthwave, spectral post-punk, and drone-infused textures; and Francesco Pastacaldi (Ciccio), a jazz-punk drummer and member of the explosive trio Jean-Louis and the angular groove unit Abacaxi (Carton Records), also a longtime collaborator of the maverick performer Fantazio.
Their debut album 24 96 (The Trilogy Tapes, 2021), born from a series of abrasive studio improvisations, was followed by a sold-out show at London’s Café OTO. That performance, released as Maremoto, captured the duo’s raw, physical energy in its purest form.
Since then, Ciccio & 2mo have brought their visceral live act to stages across Europe — from Sonic Protest in France to the Meakusma Festival in Belgium, where their live set was released as Live at Meakusma Festival 2024.
Now, the duo returns with Bouc & Rouages, a bold and hallucinatory second album commissioned by Hublotone. This new opus introduces three singular voices into the mix: operatic singers Léa Trommenschlager and Bianca Iannuzzi, and genre- blurring rapper Pauline Sampler (aka Frizzy P, known for her work with M. Cole). The result is a soundscape in constant tension — pulsing drum machines, organic percussion, saturated synth layers, and hypnotic, looping riffs.
Equal parts physical and disenchanted, the music of Ciccio & 2mo traces a thrilling, unstable path through noise psychedelia, industrial memory, and experimental pop.
Imagine Cosey Fanni Tutti rubbing up against pop, with Charles Hayward (This Heat) on drums — and you’re getting close.

If there is one person, who has been causing a stir on the international club circuit recently, it is Barcelona's John Talabot. Already his debut “My Old School“ (which is meant literally by the way) on Permanent Vacation in 2009 and shortly after that the single “ Sunshine”, which he put out on his own Hivern Disc imprint, made him one of the most promising musicians of the Spanish electronic scene. And those two releases also already set the mark for John Talabot’s unparalleled music: raw, loopy, heavy on the kick drum, sample based, moderate on the tempo, distorted on the drums and light years away from the clean and ever revolving house sound of today. This unique style which also blends influences from afro beat, Detroit techno, Chicago house and cosmic disco, but also northern soul or the energy of Flamenco, immediately turned some heads around. James Murphy, Âme and Aeroplane started including Talabot music in their sets like it was the most natural thing. However - and this is quite rare - he not only gained legions of fans in the house and disco community, but also amongst the leftfield pop and indie rock followers. NME and Resident Advisor both had “Breakthrough“ features on John Talabot and he can be proud of a “Best New Music“ dubbing on
Pitchfork. (Being rather elusive on showing his face in magazines or the web it also came to some funny rumors that John Talabot was the alter ego of a well-known techno producer from Detroit).
At the same time he drew the attention of like-minded artists like James Holden and Luke Abott from Border Community, Blondes or Delorean, which lead to a bunch of fertile collaborations: Luke Abbott and Blondes remixed Talabot’s “Sunshine“ single , John Talabot remixed a track by Delorean and vice versa Delorean’s Ekhi contributed vocals to the track “Journeys “ on John’s album). Another example is the Young Turks Label (home of Jamie XX, Holy Fuck, El Guincho or SBTRKT ) on which he released the “Families“ EP in 2010. It was praised beyond limits. Pitchfork for
instance hailed: “… where pop and house influences sweetly buffer up against one another to provide an unyielding sense of elation“ and even brought Talabot a comparison with artists like Four Tet or Caribou.
While staying true to his sound, John Talabot has nevertheless shown a constant evolution as a producer since his first release. He has traced a solid musical path that has turned him into one of the big references of European House and has made him also a highly in demand Remixer (for the likes of The XX, Francesco Tristano’s “Aufgang” project, Shit Robot on DFA, Thaiti 80, Joakim or Teengirl Fantasy to name just a few ).
A progression that now crystallizes in “ƒin”, his first full-length album for Permanent Vacation. A record, in which the Barcelona mastermind sets aside the danceable immediacy to expand his stylistic palette more than ever. For that purpose, Talabot melts all the elements that have constructed his distinctive sound until now and makes them emerge from a new perspective, in which the construction of complex song structures, intricate rhythms and superpositions of ever-evolving melodies and atmospheres pick up the baton of the “a kick-drum and a sampler” philosophy of his initial productions. The result brings us 11 tracks (we should call them songs really!) dominated by dark ambiances, gaseous textures and bittersweet moods that, above all, reveal a kind of vivacity that’s really hard to find in contemporary electronics. “Fin” is far from being a track collection. From the majestic opener “Depak Ine“ to it’s solemn ending with
“So Will Be Now“ , one of the two tracks that features Talabot’s soul and label mate Pional, each song traces an overall dialogue with the rest, culminating a highly emotional journey through Talabot’s always compelling and unique musical vision.

múm are returning with a new album on Morr Music. »History of Silence« is the first full body of work by the Icelandic collective since 2013's »Smilewound« and their seventh studio album to date—recorded, deconstructed, put back together again, refined and finished over the course of two years. Vibrantly oscillating around a carefully curated palette of electronic and analogue sounds, the eight new tracks reflect the group's continuous strive to explore sonic spaces through subtle yet gripping songwriting.

For a long time now, múm have been exploring the idea of distance in their music. In the beginning, this was born purely out of necessity. Founded in Iceland in the late 1990s, the members soon began embarking on journeys across the world—collectively while touring, but also individually, exploring new places to live and create. Settling in, moving on, catching up: The concept of distance soon became an integral part of the collective's process. »History of Silence« leans into this idea, with space and time becoming indispensable pillars of the arrangements. While being coherent and structured, they echo their origins from different seasons, cities, and spaces—neatly stitched together with unparalleled craftsmanship. They breathe an overall airy and intimate atmosphere, yet resonate with the structural heft of time.

On »History of Silence« time manifests in unexpected, liberating, and mesmerizing ways. It does not move reliably forward; it drifts, takes twists and turns, even disappears completely. Electronic textures blur into acoustic sounds, voices flicker and dissolve, melodies stumble and repeat. The arrangements often feel like they’re wandering, gently resisting direction. »Our Love is Distorting,« for instance, begins with a subtle piano motif, playing hide and seek with feedback noises, digital artefacts, and lush—yet very quiet—string arrangements, before gradually forming into a distinctive song. It's a perfect illustration of múm's general approach on this album. »Mild at Heart« turns this idea upside-down, flowing freely from start to finish with moments of silence sprinkled in—serving to emphasize the musical elements. The music on »History of Silence« moves like weather: unexpected, intimate, quietly detailed. Contrasted with vivid phrases, rhythmic shifts, and small hooks, the album offers a new angle of compositional clarity and vision.

Work on »History of Silence« began at Sudestudio in southern Italy. Additional recordings were made in Reykjavík, Berlin, Athens, Helsinki, New York, and Prague. The strings were recorded by Sinfonia Nord at the Hof concert hall, Akureyri, arranged and conducted by Ingi Garðar Erlendsson, who has worked with the band for many years. The orchestral elements don’t dominate the record—instead, they surface gently, adding depth and resonance to the songs without disturbing the songs' fragility.

Contrary to what the album title suggests, »History of Silence« is a collection of bold and colorful songs, no matter how muted they might sound at times. They tickle like a feather drifting through the wind, ending up in unexpected places, stimulating long-forgotten thoughts and feelings, intimate moments of introspection. The songs move through the echoes those moments leave behind: the emotional traces of things unsaid, the weight of stillness. Offering closeness by means of distance and much-needed support.

múm are returning with a new album on Morr Music. »History of Silence« is the first full body of work by the Icelandic collective since 2013's »Smilewound« and their seventh studio album to date—recorded, deconstructed, put back together again, refined and finished over the course of two years. Vibrantly oscillating around a carefully curated palette of electronic and analogue sounds, the eight new tracks reflect the group's continuous strive to explore sonic spaces through subtle yet gripping songwriting.

For a long time now, múm have been exploring the idea of distance in their music. In the beginning, this was born purely out of necessity. Founded in Iceland in the late 1990s, the members soon began embarking on journeys across the world—collectively while touring, but also individually, exploring new places to live and create. Settling in, moving on, catching up: The concept of distance soon became an integral part of the collective's process. »History of Silence« leans into this idea, with space and time becoming indispensable pillars of the arrangements. While being coherent and structured, they echo their origins from different seasons, cities, and spaces—neatly stitched together with unparalleled craftsmanship. They breathe an overall airy and intimate atmosphere, yet resonate with the structural heft of time.

On »History of Silence« time manifests in unexpected, liberating, and mesmerizing ways. It does not move reliably forward; it drifts, takes twists and turns, even disappears completely. Electronic textures blur into acoustic sounds, voices flicker and dissolve, melodies stumble and repeat. The arrangements often feel like they’re wandering, gently resisting direction. »Our Love is Distorting,« for instance, begins with a subtle piano motif, playing hide and seek with feedback noises, digital artefacts, and lush—yet very quiet—string arrangements, before gradually forming into a distinctive song. It's a perfect illustration of múm's general approach on this album. »Mild at Heart« turns this idea upside-down, flowing freely from start to finish with moments of silence sprinkled in—serving to emphasize the musical elements. The music on »History of Silence« moves like weather: unexpected, intimate, quietly detailed. Contrasted with vivid phrases, rhythmic shifts, and small hooks, the album offers a new angle of compositional clarity and vision.

Work on »History of Silence« began at Sudestudio in southern Italy. Additional recordings were made in Reykjavík, Berlin, Athens, Helsinki, New York, and Prague. The strings were recorded by Sinfonia Nord at the Hof concert hall, Akureyri, arranged and conducted by Ingi Garðar Erlendsson, who has worked with the band for many years. The orchestral elements don’t dominate the record—instead, they surface gently, adding depth and resonance to the songs without disturbing the songs' fragility.

Contrary to what the album title suggests, »History of Silence« is a collection of bold and colorful songs, no matter how muted they might sound at times. They tickle like a feather drifting through the wind, ending up in unexpected places, stimulating long-forgotten thoughts and feelings, intimate moments of introspection. The songs move through the echoes those moments leave behind: the emotional traces of things unsaid, the weight of stillness. Offering closeness by means of distance and much-needed support.

múm are returning with a new album on Morr Music. »History of Silence« is the first full body of work by the Icelandic collective since 2013's »Smilewound« and their seventh studio album to date—recorded, deconstructed, put back together again, refined and finished over the course of two years. Vibrantly oscillating around a carefully curated palette of electronic and analogue sounds, the eight new tracks reflect the group's continuous strive to explore sonic spaces through subtle yet gripping songwriting.

For a long time now, múm have been exploring the idea of distance in their music. In the beginning, this was born purely out of necessity. Founded in Iceland in the late 1990s, the members soon began embarking on journeys across the world—collectively while touring, but also individually, exploring new places to live and create. Settling in, moving on, catching up: The concept of distance soon became an integral part of the collective's process. »History of Silence« leans into this idea, with space and time becoming indispensable pillars of the arrangements. While being coherent and structured, they echo their origins from different seasons, cities, and spaces—neatly stitched together with unparalleled craftsmanship. They breathe an overall airy and intimate atmosphere, yet resonate with the structural heft of time.

On »History of Silence« time manifests in unexpected, liberating, and mesmerizing ways. It does not move reliably forward; it drifts, takes twists and turns, even disappears completely. Electronic textures blur into acoustic sounds, voices flicker and dissolve, melodies stumble and repeat. The arrangements often feel like they’re wandering, gently resisting direction. »Our Love is Distorting,« for instance, begins with a subtle piano motif, playing hide and seek with feedback noises, digital artefacts, and lush—yet very quiet—string arrangements, before gradually forming into a distinctive song. It's a perfect illustration of múm's general approach on this album. »Mild at Heart« turns this idea upside-down, flowing freely from start to finish with moments of silence sprinkled in—serving to emphasize the musical elements. The music on »History of Silence« moves like weather: unexpected, intimate, quietly detailed. Contrasted with vivid phrases, rhythmic shifts, and small hooks, the album offers a new angle of compositional clarity and vision.

Work on »History of Silence« began at Sudestudio in southern Italy. Additional recordings were made in Reykjavík, Berlin, Athens, Helsinki, New York, and Prague. The strings were recorded by Sinfonia Nord at the Hof concert hall, Akureyri, arranged and conducted by Ingi Garðar Erlendsson, who has worked with the band for many years. The orchestral elements don’t dominate the record—instead, they surface gently, adding depth and resonance to the songs without disturbing the songs' fragility.

Contrary to what the album title suggests, »History of Silence« is a collection of bold and colorful songs, no matter how muted they might sound at times. They tickle like a feather drifting through the wind, ending up in unexpected places, stimulating long-forgotten thoughts and feelings, intimate moments of introspection. The songs move through the echoes those moments leave behind: the emotional traces of things unsaid, the weight of stillness. Offering closeness by means of distance and much-needed support.

In the final month of 2024, Meitei arrived in Beppu, a city long steeped in vapor, myth, and mineral memory. Invited to create onsen ambient music commemorating Beppu’s 100th anniversary, he immersed himself in the city’s geothermal psychogeography, where sound rises from the ground and time clings to mist.

Known for his Lost Japan (Shitsu-nihon) works, which channel forgotten eras into flickering auditory relics, Meitei took residence in the warehouse of Yamada Bessou, a century-old inn perched by the bay. Over two weeks, he listened intently to steam, to stone, to the atmosphere itself. The resulting work, Sen’nyū, traces the inner spirit of onsen culture. Like water finding its path, the music emerged with quiet inevitability, shaped by Meitei’s synesthetic sensibility and deep attunement to place.

Equipped with a microphone, he wandered Beppu’s sacred sites: Takegawara Onsen, Bouzu Jigoku, Hebin-yu, and the private baths of Yamada Bessou. There, he captured the breath of the springs, bubbling mud, hissing vents, wind against bamboo, and the murmurs of daily visitors. These field recordings became the sonic bedrock of Sen’nyū, an act of deep listening that attempts to render even the rising mist and shifting heat into sound.

Unfolding as a single, continuous piece, Sen’nyū drifts like fog through sulfur and stone. It traverses the veiled madness of Bouzu Jigoku, the spectral resonance of Yamada Bessou’s inner bath, and the hushed voices of Takegawara Onsen. It is a gesture of quiet reverence, for water’s patience, the land’s memory, and the hands that have bathed here for generations.

Where Meitei’s earlier works conveyed his personal impression of a fading Japan, Sen’nyū is grounded in tactile presence, music not imagined but encountered. Here, his practice moves closer to the spirit of kankyō ongaku, environmental music born from place, shaped by it, and inseparable from it.

As part of the project, Meitei conceived a two-day public sound installation inside Takegawara Onsen, culminating in a live performance. Bathers soaked in mineral-rich waters while submerged in sound, an embodied ritual of place, body, and listening.

Sen’nyū marks Meitei’s first full-length work centered entirely on onsen and opens a new chapter of his Lost Japan project under the expanded title 失日本百景 (One Hundred Lost Views of Japan), a series exploring extant sites of longing still quietly breathing within contemporary life. The album will be accompanied by Meitei’s first photo book, a visual document of his time in Beppu. A new layer is added to the world he has, until now, built only through sound.

Sen’nyū continues Meitei’s devotion to Japan as subject, while opening new terrain: both ritual and remembrance, an immersion into the mineral soul of Beppu.

World Of Echo announces the reissue of two remastered albums by Japanese guitarist and songwriter Naoki Zushi, 1988’s Paradise, and 2005’s III. Two classics of Japanese psychedelia, both Paradise and III were originally released on Org Records, the imprint of Shinji Shibayama of acid-folk group Nagisa Ni Te, with whom Zushi has guested on second guitar for decades. Both intimate and expansive, rich with revelatory songwriting and blasted, sky-scouring guitar, these reissues return these albums to print for the first time since the 2000s. It’s the first time III has been officially released on vinyl, with an extra, previously unreleased track, “Under The June Moonlight.”

Recorded in Kyoto’s Townhouse Studios in mid 1987 and released in limited-to-500 vinyl pressing in 1988, Paradise emerged from a scene in Kansai, Japan that was embracing the idiosyncracies of 1970s singer-songwriters, the soaring solos of early seventies psychedelia, and the DIY impulse of 1980s post-punk. While Zushi’s musical history stretched back to the early eighties – he was a founding member of Jojo Hiroshige’s noise outfit Hijokaidan – he found his feet with groups like Hallelujahs, whose dream-pop collection Niku O Kuraite Chikai Wo Tateyo was recently reissued by Black Editions, and Idiot O’Clock.

Paradise appeared two years after that Hallelujahs album and share much the same membership – Zushi’s backing band on several of the songs includes Shibayama on drums and Ken-Ichi Takayama (aka Idiot) on electric guitar, though just as often, Zushi plays all the instruments himself. The coordinates here are wide-reaching – you can hear the volume and intensity of Neil Young & Crazy Horse (on “Hallelujah: Left Side” and “Paradise: Midday”), the slow-motion magic of Galaxie 500, the idiosyncratic spirit of The Only Ones, all mixed up with tender guitar miniatures and stumbling garage-psych-pop moves.

Seven years later, after the transitional album Phenomenal Luciferin, Zushi released III. Perhaps his masterpiece, it’s already been bootlegged on vinyl, but this reissue is the real deal. The album was recorded at Studio Nemu over seven years, and sees Zushi backed by Shibayama (bass) and Masako Takeda (drums), his erstwhile bandmates in Nagisa Ni Te. By this stage, Zushi had started to really stretch out, and many of the songs on III swoon languorously, taking their sweet time to say what they need to say. It’s rich with lovely, melancholy songs, in a similar realm to bandmates Nagisa Ni Te, of course, but you can also hear traces of everything from Syd Barrett’s The Madcap Laughs, through seventies private press loner folk, to the slow-burn meanderings of the likes of early Low or Damon & Naomi.

When interviewed by Shibayama in the mid-nineties, Zushi said of Paradise, “it was a sort of collection of songs that had meant something to me up to that point… it was my paradise. I wanted to create paradise.” That’s something Zushi achieves on both of these albums – visionary Japanese psychedelia, en route to paradise. - Jon Dale







g Under The June Moonlight vinyl only bonus track

A“This album is about what it means to be human, and its creation is my offering. I attempt to tell a tale of the human experience in the reflection of my own.”

‘In the Andean mythology, condors are believed to be immortal. It is said that once they feel old, without energy, and useless, they climb to the highest peak and let themselves fall to death.’

The Allegorist is a visionary, enigmatic, transmedia, and boundary-pushing artist known for crafting deep, immersive dark sonic tales. Embracing a wide array of influences, weaving together the mysteries, art and spirituality, the art project defies categorisation, resonating with those who seek the unconventional.

From Birth Until Death is an introspective and immersive concept album that reflects on the essence of the human experience. Crafted over six years by The Allegorist (aka Anna Jordan), the album traces the arc of life—from its fragile beginnings to its inevitable end—using sound art to explore existential and philosophical terrain. Inspired by the Andean mythology of the condor – a symbol of immortality – the album blends electronic soundscapes with raw field recordings, evoking a deep sense of connection between the natural world and human existence.

The album’s progression mirrors the stages of life, starting with the birth of new beginnings and culminating in death, with each track offering a unique reflection on the moments in between. From the dynamic energy of Momentum, to the ethereal, illusionary world of Fata Morgana, the tracks guide the listener through emotions, perceptions, and experiences that shape the human condition.

A distinctive feature of From Birth Until Death is its intricate production. The album incorporates field recordings from Grunewald Forest, a distant roar of a jet, barking dogs, blending the sounds of nature – footsteps in the snow, birdsong, ocean waves – with layered synthesisers and electronic beats. The bass and ambient textures are crafted using an array of analog hardware, while all vocals, both lead and backing, are performed and recorded by Jordan. Some of the vocal takes were intentionally left raw, capturing the spontaneous energy of early recordings, while others were re-recorded to balance the album’s organic yet polished feel. Each element is meticulously crafted, revealing its deeper meaning as the album unfolds like a multidimensional, living sculpture.

At its core, From Birth Until Death is a meditation on the full spectrum of life. The album’s title track, From Birth Until Death, encapsulates this journey, reflecting on the passage of time and the unique experience of being human. The final track, Death, offers a melancholic yet beautiful exploration of endings, not as finalities, but as moments in the grand cycle of life. With its combination of evocative sound design and deeply personal themes, From Birth Until Death invites listeners to contemplate their own lives, offering a moving experience of reflection, growth, and transformation.

About From Birth Until Death
Words By Robin Rimbaud (Scanner)

From Birth Until Death is a deeply personal and reflective album and beautifully crafted. A detailed listen reveals that Jordan was in search of a profoundly human and authentic expression. In an era when so much around us seems defined by speed, Anna Jordan, aka The Allegorist, stands apart – aware that skimming the surface of life is neither sufficient nor rewarding. She reminds us of the value of deep, authentic listening.

The track Andean Condor seductively draws us into a smoky, blurred rhythmic soundscape, capturing the essence of the darkest Berlin nightclub, while Birth pulses with an almost shamanic transformation of sound, moving from the organic to the musical. It features a recording of Jordan’s footsteps in the snow in Grunewald Forest, Germany.

At times, the music feels almost sculptural in shape and tone – lifting, pushing, lilting, opening, and closing – where each piece is given room to fully develop. Many of the works blend synthetic sound with the natural, incorporating the human voice alongside environmental recordings: the wild waves of the ocean, a jet flying overhead, and barking dogs.

With From Birth Until Death, Jordan, like an alchemical architect revealing in the process of getting lost and relinquishing control, leaves us with a taut, immersive soundtrack in which to lose ourselves.

About the album ‘From Birth Until Death’
words by The Allegorist

“The album From Birth Until Death did not come easily to me. I started working on it in 2019, and it underwent many alterations over the years. I produced multiple versions of the tracks each year, but the album name, the track titles, and the album cover art stayed the same for 6 years. Not everything I did fit into the album’s final form, but I hope the heavy selection just made it better. I played this piece live in my techno live set between 2019 and 2020, and in the years after, I performed different art, ambient, and vocal versions of it, most notably the one at the church St. Marienkirche in Berlin in 2022. It just wanted to live and didn’t want to be finished. As I aged, this album aged with me. And now I’m ready to let it go.”

Purple Vinyl 7" Single! limited edition! Chastity Belt's version of "Loaded Painted Red" doesn't just cover 764-Hero's original. It dissolves into it, rebuilding it with a gauzy, wide-open clarity. It's a song that's always carried a certain weight: bruised and echoing with late '90s Pacific Northwest melancholy. In their first-ever recorded cover, Chastity Belt traces that ache into new territory, drawing it out like bated breath. Lydia Lund threads a new guitar line through the song, tugging it towards their distinct style like a slow orbit around the song's core feeling. "I've been a fan of 764-Hero for a while now, and 'Loaded Painted Red' is one of my faves!" says Julia Shapiro. "It was hard to do the song justice because the original is so perfect, but we also had fun reimagining it and making it our own." Initially released in 1998 on 764-Hero's Get Here and Stay (Up Records), "Loaded Painted Red" has long been a fan-favorite, a softly jagged and charged meditation. The new split 7" pairs the cover with the original, a full-circle release that marks 764-Hero's catalog joining the Suicide Squeeze family. Together, the two versions collapse decades into a single foggy breath riding out the dusky golden-hour light of the Pacific Northwest.

The Vestige is the first fruit of a new intergenerational collaboration between Giuseppe Ielasi, a quietly prolific key contributor to the European experimental music scene for over twenty years, and Jack Sheen, a young composer-conductor-sound artist from Manchester whose recent projects have seen him moving seamlessly from enigmatic chamber music composition and installations to conducting the London Symphony Orchestra. Their materials and working methods differ significantly, with Ielasi having focussed for many years on electro-acoustic techniques alongside his ongoing commitment to the guitar, and Sheen primarily composing for traditional instruments. More important, though, is what they share: a fascination with what Sheen calls “mysterious, liminal musical material,” using irregular repetition and cyclical forms to create structures at once alive with activity and almost static, as well as a rigorous exploration of spatial diffusion and the interaction of sound event and environment. Working individually with a library of acoustic instrument sounds from Sheen’s recent projects and Ielasi’s guitar, the pair eventually met for several days at Ielasi’s home studio in Monza, sculpting the fourteen pieces that make up The Vestige. Like Ielasi and Sheen’s solo works, the record shows an exquisite attention to details of sequencing and pacing, the sound palette and compositional approach consistent throughout while each piece asserts its own identity. The twenty-five seconds of the opening piece serve as an entrée into the record’s distinctive world of sound: repeated chirps fluctuate in volume as they move across the stereo spectrum, woven between strangled snatches of string glissando against a backdrop of percussive ticks, long tones, and white noise. Across the remaining thirteen pieces, Ielasi and Sheen sketch further dimensions of the ambiguous space, where distinctions between pitch and noise, repetition and irregularity, electronic and acoustic remain pointedly unclear. As the record’s title suggests, the origins of the sounds we hear have become remote: while at moments we get flashes of timbres and attacks that could come from wind instruments, bowed strings, or prepared guitar, these remain vestigial traces, glimpsed through a veil of shifting white noise textures. These textures are themselves difficult to trace, suggesting artefacts of the recording process, electronic synthesis, amplified room sound, rubbed instruments or objects. The Vestige shows an unusual degree of attention to frequency range as a compositional tool, something it shares with the hyper-subtle variations of Ielasi’s electroacoustic works and the deliberately ‘unbalanced’ midrange-heavy ensemble of Sheen’s Sub. Here, movement between episodes is as much about adding or removing a frequency band as it is about changes in density, harmonic content, or instrumental texture. Tracks are marked by the sudden appearance of subbass or exaggeration of high frequencies in otherwise similar material, contributing to our sense that these fourteen pieces are like different views on a scene that we can never quite see clearly. While calling up a range of past music, from the early works of Rolf Julius to Simha Arom’s recordings of layered polyrhythms embedded in the background sounds of central African villages to the temporal distortions and layered hiss of DJ Screw, the alluring and disconcerting world of The Vestige is entirely its own.

Since its founding back in 2014, Blume has carved a unique place in cultural landscape, issuing free-standing works, spanning the historical and contemporary, that represent singular gestures of creativity within the field of experimental sound. Joining their broad efforts in building networks of context and understanding that already includes the works by Werner Durand, Sarah Hennies, Bruce Nauman, John Butcher, Jocy de Oliveira, Mary Jane Leach, Valentina Magaletti, Alvin Curran, Julius Eastman, Alvin Lucier, and following the first ever vinyl release to attend to James Tenney's legendary Postal Pieces, the label now presents the first LP published by the visionary Swiss composer Jürg Frey. Drawing from the transformative power of breath and resonance, this release represents one of the most profound explorations of musical metamorphosis to emerge from the contemporary experimental landscape.

The completed work represents a "conjunction of these two artists" that has "activated a transformative form of experimentalism." These renderings "dance with an airy lightness, humour, and play, imbuing them with a beauty and emotiveness that can be rare within experimental music." They exist as "breaths, carrying the curiosities of life, belonging to no time and all time, to no one and everyone: a human music to be inhaled and pondered, for which the outcome remains unknown." In this liminal space between composition and interpretation, between breath and resonance, Zurria and Frey have created something that transcends the boundaries of experimental music itself, offering what might be called a metaphysical cartography of sound in its most essential form. As Bradford Bailey observes in his penetrating liner notes, "music is rarely a fixed entity," existing instead in a state of perpetual flux, "taking on the influences of its interpreters and performers." This fundamental truth finds its most eloquent expression in the transformative collaboration between Italian flutist Manuel Zurria and Frey, longtime member of the Wandelweiser Group. Where conventional recordings might preserve a definitive version, this release activates what Bailey calls "states of unknowing and continued experimentation," allowing Frey's compositions to evolve into entirely new dimensional territories. The original string quartet and piano works dissolve into breath-carried architectures of sound, where "the original remains in a constant dialogue with its transformation." This is not mere arrangement but ontological metamorphosis - an alchemical process through which crystalline harmonies are reborn as atmospheric phenomena.

The metaphysical dimensions of this transformation become clear through detailed analysis of the musical result. Where Frey's original compositions operate through what he calls "basic confidence in the clear and restricted material," Zurria's interpretation activates entirely new perceptual territories. Space holds almost atomic sense of weight against the airy punctuations of timbres, textures, and tones, creating "suspensions of time within which questions and identities posed by instrumentation fade." The Extended Circular Music pieces - each comprising "a small number of bars to be repeated an undetermined number of times" - become organizations of sound that defy being definitive or fixed. Originally scored for different combinations of violin, viola, cello, and piano, these works now exist as pure phenomena of breath and resonance, where "hanging, breath-length utterances dance and intertwine amongst complex harmonic clusters and conjunctions."

The philosophical implications of this transformation illuminate a lineage of composers who have moved "away from abstraction and responding to the need to create" something beyond mere technique. Drawing parallels to Morton Feldman's understanding of non-functional harmony, Zurria's approach represents "a transformative form of experimentalism" that activates what Frey calls the "thaumaturgic power" of music - its capacity to heal and transform consciousness itself. The result is "a radical reimagining of ambience: sprawling sonorities and resonances adrift in space, carrying the liberated traces of the work's former incarnations and their truths." In Zurria's interpretation, Frey's String Quartet n.3 becomes something approaching "an organ played in slow motion, its seals leaking," while the Extended Circular Music pieces transform into "glacial chords from a diverse palette of voicings, harmonies, timbres, and tones."

Performed by Manuel Zurria. Recorded and mixed by Zurria at BigCardo, Catania between 2022-2024, with mastering by Bruno Germano at Vacuumstudio, Bologna, this Blume release represents a profound exploration of musical transformation.

This new "Experimental Chapter" by DJ Narciso comes as no surprise, really. Autonomous in the motorization of his music, pushing for progress within the framework of an undeniable (inescapable?) heritage. Twisting and bending sound every step of the way, Narciso definitely keeps in touch with the dancefloor, offering the always much needed transcendence through distinctive, non-linear melodies and patterns. The artist pursues a direct link with bodies in motion but seldom in the expected, institutionalized way club culture is being largely promoted.

This is challenging dance music, proud statements of difference. Narciso's previous record was named "Diferenciado". Now we get "Dificuldades", a track that simultaneously carries the weight of being somewhat odd and the difficulties of life. Check how the piano is venting, freestyle, communicating a feeling, and then lets itself get stuck in a loop, but that's exactly when the groove really starts flowing. And then another layer. It's like direct speech.

A common assertion of pride is found in the origin of the artists. The ghetto as a place where any transformation projects more power precisely because of... inherent difficulties. As others (including himself) did in more or less obvious ways, Narciso clearly states "I come from the ghetto" ( "Não Sabes" ). Twice the value. At least. Almost every segment of music in this album ends up sounding heavily emotional, reaffirming what may be - perversely - a well-known characteristic of Portuguese music: melancholy.

"Não Quero" begins side B as a march maybe more significant than a thousand words, such is the ominous tone of its texture. Next track is another lunar tarraxo, pulling down the shades. Then, "Dor de Barriga" lets things loose again, steering clearly off road, shouting this way and that until a peaceful resolution comes. In "Livra-me Desta", vocal snippets blend into synth snippets, disembodied voices abandon all traces of humanity and finally mutate into different entities that, towards the end, again sound vaguely human but now we find ourselves doubting. Closer "Bob" is a rather classic percussion track with plenty of echo, reverb and an unconscious nod to dodecaphonic music. Unlikely? No, the structural ADN of this music is made up of elements western and eastern, southern and northern. To say all-over-the-place is usually not flattering but in this case the expression translates as wonder, surprise, The Unexpected, and reveals Narciso perfectly at ease inside the nucleus of creation.

Seedbed is a new revolving-door collective project helmed by Atlanta songwriter JJ Posway (Sloping, Scooterbabe). After six years of recording what was to be the ambitious final studio album of Posway’s long-running Athens-based band Scooterbabe, most traces of the group’s scrappy indie pop had been burnished off to reveal something entirely new. What emerged from the ashes was Seedbed.

Largely composed of performances and songwriting contributions by Scooterbabe’s final lineup (Anna Staddon vocals, keyboard, Michael Buice [bass], Zach Spires [drums]), the formation of Seedbed marks the calling in of producer Terence Chiyezhan to help mix and arrange years of piecemealed recordings. The result is an intensely imposing stylistic shift for Posway and company, as tense as the apt title of Seedbed’s growing pains-fueled debut album Stalemate implies.

Stalemate stares straight into an all-consuming whirlpool of a million swirling emotions spanning the past seven years; It’s glistening and reflective on “Unit 4” and “C c c c c c c c c c c,” while cacophonously turbulent for “Fingertips Like Ice” and foreboding album opener “Mouse At Your Feet.” But the entirety of Stalemate is nostalgia-soaked and dripping with the painful necessity of change. It brazenly steeps in the tension and grief that accompanies evolution - even at the risk of drowning in it completely.

Rachika Nayar und Nina Keith veröffentlichen am 18. Juli unter ihrem neuen Projekt Disiniblud ein selbstbetiteltes Album!

Rachika Nayar und Nina Keith, aka Disiniblud, treffen sich in Brooklyn, in einem Park, der so klein ist, dass man nicht aneinander vorbeigehen kann, ohne sich zu bemerken. Sie reden. Erst über Musik, dann über alles. Über das, was war, über das, was nicht mehr sein wird. Post-Lockdown-Liebe auf Distanz, als würde man sich an jemandem festhalten, den es nie ganz gab. Buddhismus, Hinduismus, ein Soundtrack, den sie beide als Teenager geliebt haben. Ein Gespräch ohne Worte. Eine Verbindung, die sich anfühlt wie eine längst vergessene Kindheitserinnerung. "Disiniblud", das selbstbetitetelte Album, das am 18.07.2025 via Smugglers Way erscheint, ist das Echo davon. Rachika Nayar und Nina Keith verfolgen unterschiedliche musikalische Ansätze, die sie im gemeinsamen Projekt Disiniblud zusammenführen. Rachika veränderte mit ihrer 2022er LP "Heaven Come Crashing" ihr Repertoire: Statt Ambient-Gitarren setzt sie nun auf maximalistische Synthesizer, tiefe Sub-Bässe und Amen Breaks. Diese Fusion aus Post-Rock und Elektronika wurde von Pitchfork als Best New Music ausgezeichnet und fand Anerkennung in Medien wie The New York Times, Stereogum, Fader und GQ - zudem eröffnete sie Tourneen mit M83. Nina Keith ist bekannt für ihren autodidaktischen Kompositionsstil. Ihr Debüt "MARANASATI 19111" präsentierte sie mit Instrumenten wie Cello, Klavier, Klarinette und Flöte, um persönliche Erfahrungen und Erlebnisse im Zusammenhang mit Gemeinschaftstraumata und paranormalen Ereignissen musikalisch zu verarbeiten. Mit neuen Veröffentlichungen wie "Come Back Different" featuring Julie Byrne erweitert sie ihr Spektrum durch den Einsatz modularer Synthesizer und komplexer Vokalarrangements.





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Domenique Dumont’s fourth album, Deux Paradis, arrives like the three that came before it – with an air of mystery and wonder. This is dance music for inner worlds – rituals, revelations and reveries.
Deux Paradis is a ten-track song cycle that leads the listener through the rhythm of a day, the bloom and fade of a relationship, or even the stages of a life.

It begins with a song about waking up – the candy-striped dub of “Enchantia” – and traces the sun’s arc with the pixelated reggae of “La Vie Va” and the sensuous rush of “Amants Ennemis”. As night falls, the songs take on a twilight quality in the
shimmering pop of “The Order of Invisible Things” and the seductive pulse of “Visages Visages” (a subtle nod to the Desireless classic). There’s also the baroque swoon of “Deux Paradis” and the soft exotica of “Visiteur de la Nuit”. Bolder and richer than before, it’s vintage Domenique Dumont – timeless and romantic, yet laced with an unplaceable sense of longing, like in an Éric Rohmer film. After the instrumental film score People On Sunday (Leaf, 2020) – composed solo by Arturs Liepins – singer Anete Stuce returns to Domenique Dumont, bringing her inimitable joie de vivre. Deux Paradis completes a trilogy of releases alongside Comme Ça (2015) and Miniatures De Auto Rhythm (2018) on the Antinote label.

Deux Paradis was composed, arranged and between 2022 and the end of 2024 in studios in Riga and Paris, and on the Estonian island of Hiiumaa.

Allen Toussaint’s debut as a solo artist, “The Wild Sound Of New Orleans” was released in 1958 under the name of Tousan. In the 60s, he established himself as a songwriter, producer and arranger for a number of labels and generated hits like ‘Working In The Coal Mine’ for Lee Dorsey that got to #8 in the Billboard Hot 100 in 1966. Other classic tracks that Toussaint either wrote, produced or arranged included ‘Fortune Teller’, Lipstick Traces’ and ‘Ooh Poo Pah Do’

It was only in 1970 that he found time to record another solo album, aptly entitled “Toussaint”. As well as serving up his own version Of ‘Working In The Coal Mine’, Toussaint recorded other originals like ‘From A Whisper To A Scream’ and ‘Everything I Do Is Gonna Be Funky’. There were also four instrumental tracks – ‘Pickles’, ‘Louie’, ‘Either’ and a sublime version of ‘Cast Your Fate To The Wind’ listed as ‘Allen Toussaint at the piano’.
The original version of Toussaint was released in 1970 on Scepter records and is now hailed as a soulful classic. Ace were delighted to first reissue it in 1985 as “From A Whisper To A Scream” with the addition of a bonus track and with a slightly different running order.
On “Toussaint” we present the original album as Allen Toussaint intended it to be heard. Remastered to perfection this is an essential purchase

Black Truffle is pleased to announce a new edition of Kassel Jaeger’s Fernweh, returning François J. Bonnet’s electroacoustic project to the label five years after the acclaimed Meith (BT069). Originally released on Giuseppe Ielasi and Jennifer Veillerobe’s impeccably curated Senufo Editions in 2012, Fernweh stands near the beginning of the gradual expansion of Bonnet’s approach after the austere acoustic textures of Aerae and Algae (both released on Senufo), leading to the lush, layered environments of recent solo works on Shelter Press and the epic electronic expeditions undertaken in duo projects with Stephen O’Malley and Jim O’Rourke.

A major work in the Kassel Jaeger oeuvre, stretching over two LP sides, Fernweh draws together synthesized and musique concrète materials into a drifting assemblage. Its title’s meaning is close to the concept of ‘Wanderlust’, fitting for this music that moves freely and unexpectedly between what Bonnet calls ‘climates’. Beginning with fizzing electronics whose rhythm of gradual approach suggests breaking waves, the clinical atmosphere is soon haunted by intangible traces of lived reality. Textures call up wind, water, insects, the crunch of feet on sand or the clinking of glasses, yet they can never be identified with any certainty. At times these concrete elements possess a vivid ‘closeness’; at others, the sounds shade into a formless distance. Though the listener forms no clear picture from the concrete sounds, these elements aerate the music, lending it their space.

Drawing from the rigorous formal language and conceptual apparatus of the French musique concrète tradition—with which Bonnet, as director of the GRM and researcher into its deepest archival recesses, is intimately familiar—the music of Kassel Jaeger is equally informed by how underground experimental music has rethought electroacoustic techniques, with Fernweh at times calling up the grit and grime of para-industrial eccentrics like Maurizio Bianchi or the Toniutti brothers, and at other moments suggesting the slow-moving grandeur of early Olivia Block. Subtle features of dynamics and rhythm act as connective tissue between the numerous ‘scenes’, with wave-like envelopes, rapid pulsations, and short, tape-loop patterns all recurring throughout the piece, shared ambiguously between electronic and concrete sounds. Amid these shifting, often inharmonic textures, the electronic elements sometimes cohere into melodic shapes and chordal patterns, cutting through the fog in distorted arcs or underpinning the layered surface with slow-moving harmonies. Like his friend and collaborator Jim O’Rourke, Bonnet displays a radical openness at odds with academic tradition, allowing unabashed emotion to coexist with rigorous experimentation. As Fernweh dies away with mysterious shudders, listeners are left at once moved and unsure of exactly what they just heard.

Originally published by Tomlab in 2001, “Seleya” is the second full- length issued by Kristian Peters’ Novisad project. Twenty-four years after its initial release, the album’s thirteen loop-based arrangements continue to resonate with striking clarity. Keplar presents Seleya with a previously unreleased bonus track from 2004 and a fresh vinyl cut by LUPO.

These evocative miniatures feel haunted with the passage of time, bearing traces of the exploratory studio workflows, tactile imperfections, and emerging technologies that would have given birth to them: plain DAW manipulations, aliasing digitalia, the tones and timbres of the “misused” equipment ambient musicians utilized before Ableton, Eurorack, and the rise of the boutique electronics that have streamlined electronic music production.

In our present epoch, these compositions feel almost eerily nostalgic, documenting the sort of trembling, wide-eyed spirit and enviable naivety that characterizes cultural production as it ventures into new waters, unfettered by the sediments of established methodology and trend. This tendency to avoid aesthetic orthodoxy results in music that refuses to settle into predictability. Subtle frequencies drift and collide, counterpoint loops run in quiet opposition, and elegant dissonance gives rise to unexpected harmony. The album’s emotional power lies in these tensions, in the way it balances melancholy with beauty and familiarity with complexity.

Civilistjävel! x Mayssa Jallad’s ‘Marjaa: The Battle of the Hotels (Versions)’ is a radical response to Mayssa Jallad’s 2023 original LP, a lyrical account of epochal events in Beirut at the dawn of Lebanon's civil war. ‘…(Versions)’ sees Civilistjävel! (aka Swedish producer Tomas Bodén) apply a stripped, dub methodology to Mayssa's rich stems, refracting the Arabic source through the hazy prism of Northern European electronica. Retaining ‘Marjaa…’s deep spatial framing and vaporous, shifting nature, traces are lifted and set down in a new landscape: a ghost of a ghost. Informed by Tomas' singular strand of ambient, minimalist, dub techno, ‘… (Versions)’ recalls the reductive, shimmering pulse of pioneering Berlin-based practitioners Basic Channel/Chain Reaction, but with the parameters stretched into the ether. Where versions typically focus on a rhythm, here the anchor is the tone and texture of Mayssa’s voice, around which a new world has been constructed. Disembodied and liminal, it conjures an eerie panorama that feels like a postscript to the original, further emphasizing the geopolitical events that have had such devastating effect in Mayssa’s homeland of Lebanon since that record’s release. ‘Marjaa…’ (tr. ‘reference’) combined Mayssa Jallad’s two main vocations: music and urban research/architectural history. The album was co-written with Fadi Tabbal and based on Mayssa's Historic Preservation master's thesis (‘Beirut’s Civil War Hotel District: Preserving the World’s First High-Rise Urban Battlefield’). The thesis examined a 5-month conflict that took place within Beirut's skyscraper-laden luxury hotel district of Minet El Husn near the start of the Lebanese Civil War. Addressing a post-war generation who have never been taught this difficult history, ‘Marjaa…’ was an attempt to process trauma, and “a call to protest for the renewal, rather than the recycling of the political class that once destroyed the country and holds us, to this day, hostage of its violence.” Often perceived as a mysterious, shadowy presence, Civilistjävel! has come increasingly to the fore in recent years through a consistently dazzling stream of records, released both anonymously and via Fergus Jones’ FELT imprint, often appearing with scant information and tracks for the most part untitled. Having featured tracks from ‘Marjaa…’ on mixes, and included the album in his picks of 2023, in early 2024 Tomas asked Mayssa to provide vocals for a track on his album ‘Brödföda’. Mayssa remembers, “Tomas asked me to choose one of the tracks he was working on. I was in Boston at the time, so I took a walk and chose a track. I wrote the lyrics at the public park, wondering if I was the only one around that was losing sleep over the genocide in Palestine and the war in South Lebanon. I went back to the apartment and recorded the vocals on my phone, while listening to the track on headphones. Tomas reworked it with the voice and sent it back. I liked it immediately.” Despite the geographical distance from Beirut to Uppsala, Sweden, where Tomas resides, Mayssa’s contribution sounds very much at home in Civilistjävel!’s atmospheric, contemplative sound-world. Tomas’ request was reciprocated by Mayssa soon after, resulting in the spectral, glassy ambience of ‘Etel, Kharita (Version)’. This was followed by an invitation to work on more tracks, which Tomas immediately embraced, intensively jamming out versions live to two-track tape in downtime between travelling. If not entirely dissimilar to his regular working practice, the immediacy of it was unusual. Much was improvised live with just a keyboard (not tethered to a grid), and a restricted set-up that largely forbade later edits - only the rhythm tracks are programmed. A sharp conceptual thinker and composer, Tomas takes creative liberties with Mayssa’s songs in a way that is deeply felt and sympathetically aligned, whilst unashamedly outside of the original context of the record. The voice is leaned into as an instrument, without the clear, specific details of language, and this axis provides an uncertain, amorphous footing - structure is often suggested or hinted at, before disappearing or collapsing into fog, and folding back into the message within the song. A somewhat unprecedented source for an album of versions, even those familiar with ‘Marjaa: The Battle of the Hotels’ may at points struggle to hear the songs these versions are rebuilt from, despite the vocal narratives remaining virtually intact. The light has shifted; eroded buildings are foregrounded; fragments of memories appear in chiaroscuro. Signs and signifiers have been replaced. Shorn of the original's warm guitar, ‘Baynana (Version)’ feels like an ominous visitation, the sun no longer visible. ‘Holiday Inn (March 21 to 29) (Version)’ is a molten, clattering invocation. The beat-less tracks nod towards the cold, otherworldly sound-scaping of late '90s isolationism. More propulsive and embodied, ‘Holiday Inn (January to March) (Version)’ and ‘Kharita (Dub)’ are strobing, iridescent techno - lithe, shifting and mutating with almost implausible finesse. A stunning addition to Civilistjävel!’s growing catalogue, ‘…(Versions)’ is a luminous counterpoint to ‘Marjaa…’, and a welcome reminder of how incredible that record remains.

An’archives present the debut album by Tokyo avant-pop duo Jyuriaano, Dreaming Glass. Consisting of Morimoto Ariomi and Cobalt, the two members of Jyuriaano have long histories in Japanese underground music. Morimoto’s history traces back to the late nineties; his nascent interests in noise collage and solo acoustic performance slowly transmuted to group endeavours, and more recently he’s performed with the likes of Akiko Toshimitsu (Usurabi), Maki Miura (Shizuka) and Doronco (Los Doroncos).

Cobalt has released a string of excellent singer-songwriter albums, many on his Poet Portraits label, which has also released material by the likes of Kazumi Nikaido, Place Called Space, Cuthberts, and moools, the latter of which he also performs with on occasion. While Morimoto and Cobalt have known each other for decades, they decided to form Jyuriaano in 2016, and since then have performed at live houses and small bars in Japan, all while slowly working together on their gentle, spirited songs.

The group’s formation story is typically playful – “It all started when we brought an acoustic guitar into the car on a rainy afternoon and started writing songs while eating Japanese sweets,” Cobalt recalls. That sense of play is important to the songs on Dreaming Glass, which vary wildly, from bright, infectious pop songs with a sixties lilt (“Dreaming Baby”, “How Close”), through slinky jazz-pop numbers (“Drawing A Nude”) to melancholy folk laments (“Erica”, “Night Window”). There’s something in Jyuriaano’s collaborative dynamic that gifts Morimoto and Cobalt a particularly open field, when it comes to their creative endeavours.

Some of this might also be down to their listening habits. When asked about their interest in Japanese folk precursors, legendary groups like Folk Crusaders and Itsutsu-no-Akai-Fusen, Cobalt agrees that they have a place in the duo’s listening pantheon, but that’s not where the story ends. “We’ve also listened to commercial folk music outside of those core genres,” he reflects, “We don’t just listen to one genre, but also rock and roll, noise industrial, punk, new wave, jazz, chanson, and more.”

You might also hear touches of groups like the forementioned Usurabi, or Maher Shalal Hash Baz, or songwriters like Kazumi Nikaido and Shintaro Sakamoto. But Jyuriaano’s songs, somehow, feel quite sui generis in the way they magic up alternative visions for pop’s possibilities. Dreaming Glass is, quite simply, a lovely, unpretentious joy of an album.

Hampus Lindwall’s Brace for Impact might just be the first album of post-internet pipe organ music. It’s an album of five new contemporary classical compositions, all performed by the composer himself on the 78-stop grand organ at St. Antonius church in Düsseldorf, Germany. Featuring the electric guitar of SUNN O)’s Stephen O’Malley on the title track. A highly visceral forty-five minutes of music with undeniable elemental power.
As 2024 came to a close, in New York and Paris chords rang out from thirty-two-foot pipes for the first time in half a decade. Following twin fires in 2019, the grand organs at the cathedrals of St John the Divine and Notre-Dame, amongst the largest instruments in their respective countries, had finally been restored. The news was justly celebrated in the international press, but the incidents were far from isolated. In England, the city of Norwich hailed the return of its cathedral’s five manual organ in 2023 and just two years earlier York Minster heralded a “once-in-a-century” refurbishment of its own 5,000-plus pipe instrument. Meanwhile, further organ restoration projects are ongoing at churches in Liverpool, Bradford, Bristol, Winchester, and Washington DC. Significant as they are to their respective communities, they’re also emblematic of a wider rebirth for one of humanity’s oldest musical instruments.
The organ is having a moment. Over the last few years, albums by the likes of Kali Malone, Ellen Arkbro, Anna von Hausswolff, FUJI|||||||||||TA, and Áine O’Dwyer, as well as projects in the visual arts by Sollmann Sprenger, Cory Arcangel, Massimo Bartolini and many other talented artists, have given a new prominence to the old ecclesiastical stalwart. The pipe organ bears historical traces which stretch back to the third century BC. But that doesn’t mean it can’t speak to a contemporary moment haunted by algorithms and networked culture. Hampus Lindwall’s Brace for Impact is an album of organ music for today.

F.G.S.–the musical project of Los Angeles artist Flannery Silva–announces the first-ever vinyl release of her debut album ‘Tinker Bell’s Cough’, arriving May 27 via Scenic Route. Alongside the release comes a new single, ‘The Punisher (Tinker Bell’s Edit)’, and an exclusive vinyl-only live track, ‘Passions (Live at Tinker Bell’s Clubhouse)’.

Co-created with musician and producer Chase Ceglie, ‘Tinker Bell’s Cough’ is a surreal Americana record that filters the language of girlhood, heartbreak, and fantasy through a warped, theatrical lens. It’s Lana Del Rey meets David Berman in a cartoon whirlwind, with traces of Dolly Parton, Arthur Russell, and David Lynch.

Silva describes the record as “fairy tale theatre”. It’s packed with alt-universe country hits (‘Beth’s Deth’, ‘American Shield’), uncanny ballads (‘I’m Growing A Cross Around My Neck’), and leftfield pop songs rooted in character and place. ‘Passions’, the opening track, was inspired by Mary MacLane’s ‘I Await the Devil’s Coming’, while the title track imagines Tinker Bell herself singing a lullaby to God.

New single ‘The Punisher’ is an anthemic road song about loneliness and transcendence. “It’s about driving north on I-5 in California, worrying my car will overheat, bargaining with God, and falling in love with dust tornados,” Silva says.

Raised in the woods of upstate New York and formerly one half of the cult duo Odwalla88, Silva brings a visual artist’s sensibility to music. She studied art in Baltimore and continues to make sculpture and performance work that informs her songwriting. ‘Tinker Bell’s Cough’ was written on the Rhode Island coast, where she and Ceglie met weekly to write and record—drawing from old texts, visual references, and poetry.

F.G.S. has drawn praise from NTS, The FADER, Gorilla vs. Bear, The Line of Best Fit, Artforum, Sex Magazine, and more. With the reissue of ‘Tinker Bell’s Cough’ and the release of ‘The Punisher’, Silva continues to expand the strange, magnetic world of F.G.S., one that feels both deeply American and entirely her own.

Neo Gibson, born in Virginia and based in New York City, records, performs, and produces as 7038634357. This numerical alias, under which Gibson has been releasing work since 2016, offers a window into the careful ambivalences of the musical project. It conjures the impersonal_the opacity and randomness of data, a number that is hard to remember or even say out loud_while also suggesting a direct line of communication with the artist, down to an area code indexing their biography. 7038634357 uses a restricted palette to achieve music that is formally precise and emotionally direct. Their digital-native approach to production, in which frank melodies cross paths with heavy distortion, contains traces of both trance's maximalist arcs and a songwriterly intimacy. Expressive details may appear submerged or abraded, subjected to a canny sense of dynamics and textural specificity. Waterfall Horizon, Gibson's second vinyl record with Blank Forms Editions under the moniker 7038634357, was written for live performance and workshopped over successive shows during their 2022 European tour. Here, hallmarks of their earlier, studio-crafted recordings_digital distortion that obfuscates their lyrics and a slow-burning ambience_are noticeably pared back. Instead, Waterfall Horizon takes on a pop inflection, adopting more traditional lyric scaffolds so that the interstices from verse to chorus or track to track can flourish within their limited tonal range.Across recordings and performances, Gibson activates wide-ranging mechanisms of audience connection: from the relative anonymity of internet platforms to live experiments with the spatial effects of amplification. They have a particular interest in site-specific performances in non-musical spaces, and have performed in a variety of contexts, including the mezzanine of the West 4th Street subway station in New York City and INA GRM/Radio France's Présences électronique festival. Under their own name, Gibson has maintained a longstanding collaboration with the artist Charles Stobbs, working primarily with FM transmission and techniques derived from the early-seventeenth-century English tradition of change-ringing bells. The first 7038634357 vinyl record, Neo Seven, was released on Blank Forms Editions in 2023; previous releases include self-released cassettes and CD-Rs, as well as a pair of EPs on Genome 6.66 Mbp (2018, 2019).

The Ottawa composer/performer and head of Black Bough Records plays every instrument on his CST debut: an accessibly avant-garde work of dark/ambient modern chamber music. Mark Molnar has been a linchpin of the Ottawa experimental music scene for over two decades, spanning contemporary classical, electroacoustic, industrial/noise, and improv. As a string player in a wide range of projects, an organizer and curator of innumerable shows, and via his own avantgarde label Black Bough Records, Molnar's unflagging contributions to independent music culture in Canada's capital city have been significant. EXO is his Constellation debut: a remarkable and bracing suite of post-classical composition on which Molnar plays every instrument. Meticulously self-recorded, primarily with strings, harp, and piano, EXO balances thematic melodicism, polytonality, and dissonance across three elegiac pieces of exquisitely expressive dynamism. This is exacting modern chamber music that blends formal and harmonic complexity with a solemn emotive sensibility accessible to a broad audience. Listeners that yearn for some edge and disquietude in a landscape of often all-too-approachable post-classical music should find EXO eminently worth their time and attention. While Molnar is a highly trained string player, and studied music under Aubrey Wolfe, microtonality with James Tenney, and composition with R. Murray Schafer, his trajectory has been entirely and intentionally outside the academy, signalling a socio-artistic commitment to DIY culture, forged from an early passion for the sonic worlds of post-hardcore, post-punk, no-wave, free improv, power electronics, and other independent/underground musics. His classically-informed works have been described as "tense currents of musical modernism invigorated with punk's raw vitality." EXO carries an undercurrent influenced by dark industrial and ambient metal in particular, with microphones purposely placed to pick up the low-end frequencies of the piano body, and of a bass drum positioned as a resonant skin in the acoustic space; an electroacoustic strategy organically meshed to the crisply defined and pristinely recorded pointillisms and polychords of strings, harp, and piano, which feed into this noisefloor of crepuscular sub-bass disquietude and decay. It's a production aesthetic that lends EXO a distinct undertow of tension and feeling, a sort of roiling maximalism where the chamber instrumentation traces arcs and waves of form and flow as if drawn from a dark, impervious ocean below. It also reinforces the profound hermeticism of Molnar's process, as a forbiddingly solitary creative act of immersion and navigation. The album artwork, featuring semiabstract stills of the sea by British photographer Ed Allen, further reifies this metaphor. The album's opening piece 'Sub Luna' (and its shortest at 8 minutes) showcases Molnar's adeptness at naturalistic and flowing complexity: tight cascades of climbing and descending chordal clusters hold their polytonal densities for various durations, yielding to more clarified harmonic suspensions and motifs, as melodic themes led primarily by violins in the higher registers provide a fractured lyricism. Molnar says: "the opening and closing figures of this piece act as opposing shorelines; the shorelines provide a reliable expression of range and key signature, and the tides come in and swallow them up, the motion of a body that addresses the relationship between states of lucidity and melodic figures." On 'Terre Sacer' everything happens in soupier waters, as a slow and doleful theme, anchored by grinding bass notes, circles in a gyre of dark resonances, until glistening strings gradually ascend to enrobe a plaintive and gently harrowing single-voiced ostinato over the composition's final third. Molnar's drone, ambient, minimalist, and goth-industrial influences are on display here. Side Two of EXO features the 18-minute multi-movement 'pallida Mors' (pale death): a waterfall of heterophony introduces dense chordal movements where strings are recorded and mixed to evoke pipe organ, in the album's most overtly dissonant and (anti)liturgical sequence. This gives way to ever more open and fragile spaces, before a resurgence of dark clusters and noise treatments introduces a final repeating piano coda, shrouded in devastated bass resonance, settling into what Molnar calls "a meditative hollow." Constellation is honoured to release this work by Mark Molnar, a longtime fellow-traveler whose selfless and boundlessly generous activities as an independent arts enabler sometimes obscure his own accomplished and uncompromising artistry. We trust EXO can help shed some much deserved light on this fine composer. Thanks for listening.

The first in a proposed series of transmissions, Surface Detail's mystifying debut introduces an incorporeal body that exists only through sound and sensation, prompting listeners to discern a spiritual realm beyond the physical. Its surging electro-acoustic compositions push past the material world to plunge into deeper sonic dimensions, slowly revealing a philosophy borne of near-death and out-of-body experiences that challenges perception itself.

Overhauling vintage experimental techniques with their bespoke modern methodologies and processes, Surface Detail rearrange the musical timeline, merging vastly different concepts to hint at questions rather than provide solid answers. Their uniquely immersive soundscapes use texture, rhythm and tonality to help brush away the superficial and contemplate the unknown, approaching its delicate, controversial subject matter with sensitivity and sensuality. Not just an auditory experience, 'Surface Detail' tests the potential of sound itself, eliciting visceral physical reactions with its uncanny subtleties.

Those principles are divulged immediately on opening track 'Marée Noire', as breathy saxophone notes loops and swirl over cosmic oscillations and microtonally tuned drones. It's music that cracks open a passage that snakes through various genres, suggesting silhouettes rather than affirming banal musical preconceptions. Skeletal rhythms appear in the ether for only a moment, disappearing into the sonic landscape, and Surface Detail's bespoke instrumentation materializes just to bring out the cellular intricacy of the music, concentrating the gaze on microscopic textures and irregularities that discompose the senses. As the album drifts forward, it bends material reality even further: on 'Southern Breach', warm, lower-register organ tones intermingle with sinewy guitar twangs, evaporating into warped, hypnotic oscillations and eerie echoes; and by 'Superbook of the Dead', the conspicuous details have almost disappeared completely, replaced by subterranean clangs, industrial ambience and other-worldly electrical interference.

It's in this way that Surface Detail softly assert their convictions, insinuating a narrative that subliminally ushers listeners down an hypnagogic River Styx by removing all traces of the familiar. On closing track 'Broken Silicates', distant lullabies, dissociated stutters and ghostly woodwind sounds blot fractal patterns on the wide open space, reincarnating the album in a liminal zone that's not constrained by somatic logic. Whisper quiet and utterly beguiling, it transcends material existence, dissolving barriers between surface and depth.

This new album celebrates 10 years of activity by the quartet House of Echo!


Wallsdown II: Beyond Cyborgs, tECHnO Inside Us is the second part of a trilogy, following Wallsdown, released in 2020. This new repertoire, half organic, half electronic, questions the relationship between man and machine and the digital worlds of today and tomorrow. It confronts electronics and artificial intelligence with the acoustic quartet, which, throughout the album, enter into osmosis, reverse their roles, and merge.

Ltd edition in transparent yellow vinyl!



The Mystery Lights 2nd outing on Daptone's rock subsidiary, Wick, sees them digging deeper into their cavern of influences, taking on tips from Suicide, The Kinks and Television as they look to build on their already party fuelled, raucous sound.

The Mystery Lights story begins in 2004 in the small town of Salinas California when friends Michael Brandon and Luis Alfonso -whose shared fondness for groups like The Mc5, Velvet Underground, Dead Moon, and The Fall (just to name a few) -decided to join forces and craft their own brand of unhinged rock and roll. From there they spent the better part of 10 years touring relentlessly before migrating to Queens, New York in 2014.

With a live show known for its raw, visceral energy and relentless assault –leaving little to no stoppage between songs –they barreled through countless NYC haunts and DIY venues, quickly amassing a fervent local following. The buzz soon caught the attention of Daptone Records execs who were in the beginning stages of launching a new rock-centric imprint, Wick Records. Impressed by the groups’ musicianship, groove, endless supply of energy, and understanding of musical history the Mystery Lights were quickly signed to Wick. Though a rock band at heart, the parallels to what Daptone Records had traditionally looked for in their Soul artists was undeniable. Soon sessions were booked with Producer/Engineer Wayne Gordon, and the release of their debut single “Too Many Girls” b/w “Too Tough to Bear” launched to mass critical fanfare.

Upon the release of their self-titled full-length on June 24th 2016 The Mystery Lights were quickly crowned “one of New York’s finest garage rock bands” by NME. Extensive touring, including multiple stops in Europe, Asia and Australia followed which found the group graduating from support slots at hole-in-the-wall clubs to headlining stages at major festivals worldwide.

After two years of break-neck, non-stop touring, the group settled back into Queens to prepare for their second full-length record, Too Much Tension(out May 2019). With Wayne Gordon in the producer’s chair and several intense writing sessions under their belt the group were back at Daptone’s House of Soul and ready to track. While keeping the hard-hitting approach of the first LP, Too Much Tension finds the group digging deeper into their well of eclectic influences, enriching their sound without echoing the past. Mixing the eerie, insistent synth sounds of groups like The Normal and Suicide, the energy and swagger of punk’s golden age, the pop sensibility of The Kinks, and the stark, deliberate execution of Television -The Mystery Lights are taking their idiosyncratic brand of rock and roll to dizzying new heights.

'Quiet Pieces' initiates Abul Mogard’s personal imprint Soft Echoes with a definitive self-portrait of calm, contemplative, and discreet inner landscapes made audible. It is the first solo album on vinyl in four years. RIYL Alessandro Cortini, William Basinski, The Caretaker.

While sifting through archived material left idle from earlier projects, a chance encounter with a late uncle’s trove of beloved 78rpm classical and opera records prompted the reworking and completion of what would eventually become the album. Spinning dusty records at 33 and 45rpm, Abul Mogard recombined their enduring spectres with unfinished sketches from his archive. The resulting soundscape blurs distinctions between his memories and those of another, exquisitely short-circuiting the senses with its waking, dream-like lucidity.

This was a process I hadn’t explored in my earlier works. I began sampling brief moments from these records, altering them with studio effects and playing them at slower speeds. In many cases, I wasn’t entirely sure how the original music sounded. These fragments, once further processed, became a source of inspiration for my new compositions. Over time, I realised that the old pieces from the archive and the new material derived from the samples naturally complemented each other.”

The resulting pieces hover over a threshold, a liminal space that harmonises the old and older material. Voluminous waves of quiet and loud undulate between consonance and dissonance, conjuring imagery of a decaying grandeur that humanity’s decadence has surrendered to the elements. Abul Mogard’s seemingly abandoned yet vast landscapes are nevertheless intimate with timbral frissons of red-lined distortion. Elusive, yet as tangible as sea spray or smog, they affect the olfactory senses with a rarified, synesthetic quality that modestly engages one’s emotional register – a hypnotic, distinguishing feature long hailed as one of the hallmarks of his work. A fidelity to memory and dream recall is sensitively probed in the journey from the stately symphonic stasis of 'Following a dream' to the almost industrial, untethered brutality evoked by a looming silhouette that’s never fully visible in 'Constantly slipping away', culminating in the foreboding coda of 'Like a bird'. Those pieces appear to shield the album’s sentimental core, where the tempestuous play of light and shadow of 'In a studded procession' escalates to breathtaking, panoramic climax, while 'Through whispers' evokes an out-of-body-like experience encountered with visceral poignancy.

Looking back, Mogard notes an unexpected influence: “I realise being inspired by Phill Niblock, whose work I had barely known at the time but explored after his passing in 2024. His album 'Boston Tenor Index' changed the way I approached dissonance. It encouraged me to push my sound further, to the edge of a space where I began to feel uncomfortable.”

The album artwork, created by longtime collaborator Marja de Sanctis, features a photograph taken at the Temple of Jupiter Anxur, an archaeological site overlooking the Mediterranean Sea. Captured with an iPhone, the image traces the residual presence of construction techniques and architectural forms of the Romans, where material history is transcribed through contemporary tools. The convergence of ancient and modern technology aims to reverberate the site’s lasting spiritual presence – an echo persisting in what is now perceived as a quiet, emptied space. The spiral gestures towards infinity and light. Past and present dissolve into one another, reflecting 'Quiet Pieces' meditation on sound, memory, and time.

RIYL Alessandro Cortini, William Basinski, The Caretaker

In a world where physical experiences are becoming rarer, artists are looking to connect their process to something more tangible, and with A/V rinsed, scent is an obvious next sense to plunder. Florian TM Zeisig - who last appeared on Somewhere Press as Angel R, goes the extra mile, teaming up with perfumer Angel Paradise to develop a suite of music that plays like a bouquet of memory-triggering aromas, coupled with a fragrance that captures the oily essence of their bucolic alpine setting. The project came about when both artists were living in Hinang, a small farming village in the rural Bavarian alps. Paradise was studying alpine plant behaviour and using her research to inform her approach to scent creation, developing natural perfumes based on the landscape. Zeisig, meantime, composed his own response to the mountains and forests that surrounded them. He wrote ‘Spool’ as a poignant farewell (or spiritual rebirth) as they prepared to leave, considering teenage nostalgia as well as the idyllic locale, and the pastoral suite of lulled loops, field recordings and dissociated instrumental vamps plays like a contemporary Heimatfilme soundtrack, locking into the genre’s idyllic, fantastical simplicity and romance. Drunken horn loops and mushy piano chords concertina around a wobbly axis on ‘Oneandhalf’, met by dreamy guitars and whispered, lysergic vocals. The sweet-smelling notes form an enigmatic compound, prompting us to think of Codeine or Galaxie 500 without solidifying completely. It’s music that works with outlines and traces, catching us off guard with flickers of samples and veiled base notes: the Cocteau Twins-like phased piano on ‘Threeandhalf’ that’s drowned out by gunked tape fog, or the smudges of ‘Spirit of Eden’ ambience on ‘Alright’ that creep between tweezed piano phrases. There’s depth too; Zeisig doesn’t restrict himself to Romance-cum-Basinski loopmuzak, he intersperses his GASeous orchestral waves with serene, relatively demure reflections that capture the pristine beauty of a dewy alpine morning. ‘Four’ is an ASMR-rich blend of crunching leaves and mossy, decelerated pads, and ‘Plus’ burns its drones down to crackling embers, letting the faint harmonies flicker through the coal dust. Importantly, it’s emotional music, but not overly melodramatic, finding peace in nostalgia and the calm of nature.

DOUBLE-DISC EDITION OF DARKTHRONE'S 1993 PURE NORWEGIAN BLACK
METAL MASTERPIECE, INCLUDING THE 30TH ANNIVERSARY MASTER, PLUS
ADDITIONAL DISC WITH COMMENTARY FROM FENRIZ
Darkthrone began life in the late 80's as a thrash/ death metal act & progressed
through technical death/doom metal experimentation to become legends of the black
metal world & one of the original leading bands of the Norwegian scene, as well as
inspiring a whole generation of metal bands, as they continue as strong as ever to this
day.
'Under A Funeral Moon', Darkthrone's third album, was originally released by Peaceville
in 1993. The album is a bleak reflection of contemporary times, featuring harsh guitar
riffage & hateful vocals in what was the band's first 100% pure black metal opus; a
work completely stripped of the death metal traces of former releases & in its place, a
stark & primitive execution. This was aided by an intentionally lo- fi sound that is
powerfully cold & entirely unconcerned with any modern- day aesthetics. 'Under A
Funeral Moon' is the album that many Darkthrone fans hail as the ultimate manifesto
for Black Metal.
This edition of 'Under A Funeral Moon' is presented on double- disc CD format &
includes an audio master created for the album's 30th anniversary in line with the
original 1993 version, plus the 2013 commentary disc from Fenriz with his
recollections on the tracks & the time period.

Berlin-based French-Irish multimedia artist Zoe Mc Pherson levels up on their third full-length "Pitch Blender", mangling years of experience DJing and performing live into a tight set of cybernetic soundsystem experiments that flicker between the rave and the art space.

Cast your mind back to February 2020 for a moment, when Mc Pherson released their last album "States of Fugue". The world seemed less tangled somehow, and yet Mc Pherson's precision-engineered fusion of exploratory sound design and visceral club pressure seemed to hint at a cataclysmic event none of us were really expecting. Only a few weeks after its release the world changed forever, and the majority of us were grounded - forced to consider our lives and the movement (or lack thereof) surrounding us. The philosophy of this extended time period is welded into the bones of "Pitch Blender", Mc Pherson's supple third album. They have learned plenty in the last two years, and infuse all of that anxiety and spiky emotionality into a spread of tracks that sound as powerful in headphones as they do over a well-tweaked soundsystem, soldering vocals, environmental recordings and instrumental flourishes to unpredictably pneumatic, cybernetic beats.

Anyone that's caught one of Mc Pherson's energetic live performances over the last few months will have an idea of what "Pitch Blender" is made of. They're an artist who's somehow able to match the raw energy of post-punk and no-wave music with the brain-altering potential of the best experimental club tracks, vocalizing an incongruous post-lockdown reality over beats that sound as if they're in a permanent state of flux. 'On Fire' splutters to life in a frenetic patter of drums that blur into oddly soothing hoover sounds, snaking lysergically towards a drop that's teased constantly, and never comes. We're forced to wait until 'The Spark' for that, fighting through choppy, pitch-mangled guitar and rolling beats until a gruesome kick drum forces its way through the psilocybin mists and heaving Bristol-inspired bass clonks. Backed up with just the inverted traces of recognizable breaks, this vigorous pulse lies at the heart of "Pitch Blender", the driving force that powers Mc Pherson's sound even when it's only hinted at.

'Blender' is the moment where Mc Pherson show their full hand, using crackling sound effects, ghost vocals and uneven rhythms to build a textural landscape that's so evocative you can almost taste it. Squealing modular synth effects sound like gameshow buzzers being triggered in another dimension and propel the track forward - it's club music, just about, but Mc Pherson's motivation is world-building, and their world is colorful, abstract, and dizzyingly surreal. "Obsolete user," their voice echoes over driving airlock kicks. But they take a swift left turn with 'Lamella', reducing the kinetic club rhythms to a longing simmer and letting loose with powerful vocals, intoning with robotic, gender-fluxed intensity. On 'Wait', New York City's clacking crosswalk signal - already an effective club track on its own - is transformed into a reminder to slow down, juxtaposed with booming sub-heavy kicks, acidic synths and effervescent percussion that rattles in time with the vibrations. It's foley rave, built for pure psychedelic intensity to blur the line between real life and sonic fiction.

One of the album's most galvanic tracks, 'Power Dynamics' curves a double-time rhythm around breathless HQ sound design squiggles until it hits a polyrhythmic crescendo, striking a queasy balance between rave hedonism and ritualistic hand drum energy. It all builds towards eerie closing track 'Outside' that acts as an important wind down, spotlighting Mc Pherson's ability to operate outside of the rhythmic spectrum, using cinematic scrapes and flickering neon synths to create music that's tense but never terrifying. The track feels like the end credits of a particularly bewildering movie - something between the cyberpunk dystopia of "Ghost in the Shell" and the vivid, sky-scraping beauty of "Koyaanisqatsi". Mc Pherson has managed something special with "Pitch Blender": mashing together genres with rare focus, and sharpening their engineering skills to a fine point, they've concocted an antidote to contemporary malaise - a wakeup call that's begging us to loosen our limbs and move.

Panos Alexiadis is a sound artist based in Athens, Greece, active in the field of contemporary electro-acoustic music. He founded and co-curated the tape label Thalamos, a home for exploratory sounds, where some of his own works also found their place. Marking a return after a period of (sonic) reflection, Cestrum Nocturnum is an album of remembrance and renewal. Through a lattice of self-sampled piano, fragmented voices, field recordings, and transient digital traces, Alexiadis composes a space of warmth—an electronic tapestry woven from the ephemeral. Across six pieces, sound unfolds like memory: layered, textured, dissolving at the edges yet leaving an imprint. A meditation on the cyclical nature of being and the often unnoticed beauty that quietly persists, even in the darkest hours. Cestrum Nocturnum is both a shelter and a signal.

--

The night has a thousand eyes,
And the day but one;
Yet the light of the bright world dies
With the dying sun.

The mind has a thousand eyes,
And the heart but one:
Yet the light of a whole life dies
When love is done.

Francis William Bourdillon, 1899

--

All music composed, recorded & mixed by Panos Alexiadis
Spoken word on 'But One' & ‘Follower' by Fotini Stamatelopoulou
'The Night Has a Thousand Eyes' poem by Francis William Bourdillon
Mastered by Christophe Albertijn

The Scream, Siouxsie & the Banshees' first album, was released late enough in the punk era to bear some claim as the first post-punk album, with only a minor traces of 'punk' (one lingering early song, "Carcass" comes to mind) and enough hints of what had come even earlier, Andy MacKay-like saxophone flourishes - to feel utterly new. Not to mention the effort producer Steve Lillywhite must have put into the album, his first fully-credited major label production. Siouxsie was clearly the focus of the band, with her unique vocal style and lyrics, but the real star, we've always known, was John McKay, who wrote most of the album's music (as well as singles like "Hong Kong Garden"), creating a wholly new guitar sound - harsh and brittle, yet melodically intoxicating . . . best articulated by a somewhat confounded Steve Albini years later ". . . only now people are trying to copy it, and even now nobody understands how that guitar player got all that pointless noise to stick together as songs". McKay's influence lives on; many of the most influential guitarists of the past four decades credit him as a major influence - Geordie from Killing Joke, Jim Reid of The Jesus And Mary Chain, U2's The Edge, Thurston Moore, Johnny Marr and even the two guitarists - The Cure's Robert Smith and Magazine's John McGeoch - who followed him in The Banshees. McKay's burgeoning status as the anti-guitar hero was halted when he and Banshees drummer Kenny Morris - at odds with Siouxsie and bassist Steve Severin - fled the band just after the start of a tour supporting the group's second album, Join Hands. It was a weekly music paper scandal, later the subject of a BBC documentary, and Siouxsie's vitriol working its way into the lyrics of a later Banshees b-side, "Drop Dead / Celebration". Aside from a solitary single on Marc Riley's In Tape label nearly a decade later, no music was heard from McKay again. So it comes as a major surprise to learn of a pile of excellent recordings made in the years just after he left The Banshees, unheard by all but a very few, some of which feature drummer Kenny Morris, plus Mick Allen from Rema Rema, Matthew Seligman of the Soft Boys and longer-term collaborator Graham Dowdall and John's wife Linda . . . the latter three of whom now all sadly deceased. Sixes And Sevens is an historic lost album. Brazenly genius and bearing fair claim as the lost treasure of the post-punk era, the album collects eleven studio tracks, carefully mastered from original tapes. It's a masterpiece which best speaks for itself.

The Scream, Siouxsie & the Banshees' first album, was released late enough in the punk era to bear some claim as the first post-punk album, with only a minor traces of 'punk' (one lingering early song, "Carcass" comes to mind) and enough hints of what had come even earlier, Andy MacKay-like saxophone flourishes - to feel utterly new. Not to mention the effort producer Steve Lillywhite must have put into the album, his first fully-credited major label production.
Siouxsie was clearly the focus of the band, with her unique vocal style and lyrics, but the real star, we've always known, was John McKay, who wrote most of the album's music (as well as singles like "Hong Kong Garden"), creating a wholly new guitar sound - harsh and brittle, yet melodically intoxicating . . . best articulated by a somewhat confounded Steve Albini years later ". . . only now people are trying to copy it, and even now nobody understands how that guitar player got all that pointless noise to stick together as songs". McKay's influence lives on; many of the most influential guitarists of the past four decades credit him as a major influence - Geordie from Killing Joke, Jim Reid of The Jesus And Mary Chain, U2's The Edge, Thurston Moore, Johnny Marr and even the two guitarists - The Cure's Robert Smith and Magazine's John McGeoch - who followed him in The Banshees.
McKay's burgeoning status as the anti-guitar hero was halted when he and Banshees drummer Kenny Morris - at odds with Siouxsie and bassist Steve Severin - fled the band just after the start of a tour supporting the group's second album, Join Hands. It was a weekly music paper scandal, later the subject of a BBC documentary, and Siouxsie's vitriol working its way into the lyrics of a later Banshees b-side, "Drop Dead / Celebration". Aside from a solitary single on Marc Riley's In Tape label nearly a decade later, no music was heard from McKay again. So it comes as a major surprise to learn of a pile of excellent recordings made in the years just after he left The Banshees, unheard by all but a very few, some of which feature drummer Kenny Morris, plus Mick Allen from Rema Rema, Matthew Seligman of the Soft Boys and longer-term collaborator Graham Dowdall and John's wife Linda . . . the latter three of whom now all sadly deceased.
Sixes And Sevens is an historic lost album. Brazenly genius and bearing fair claim as the lost treasure of the post-punk era, the album collects eleven studio tracks, carefully mastered from original tapes. It's a masterpiece which best speaks for itself. John McKay will be made available for a limited number of interviews . . . and yes, there are surprises in store.

Depth.Request presents Lllneas' debut album, Buried Stories, a powerful 7-track odyssey through life's darkest shadows and most enlightening revelations.
This collection of works traces its origins back to 2018 when the concept of Lllneas was born. Long before the music was written, the idea and name carried the promise of an eventual catharsis, a release that would embody the untold stories and emotional complexities of its creator.
Each composition on Buried Stories weaves a vivid tapestry of experiences, shaped by contemporary events and echoes from the past. With remarkable intensity, Lllneas channels the raw emotions they evoke, transforming music into a catalyst for healing, reflection, and understanding. More than an album, Buried Stories is an unapologetic and honest expression of survival, self-acceptance, and transformation; a tribute to those who feel out of place, offering hope and validation to embrace their unique perspectives. This release marks a moment of liberation, a turning point that sheds light on an issue that deeply resonates with Lllneas: the devastating realities of domestic violence. The artist calls for courage, awareness, and immediate action, urging people to break free from cycles of abuse and fear.

Let Buried Stories inspire you to confront the untold and find freedom in your own truth.

Marina y su Melao is a band from Barcelona led by Puerto Rican Marina Molina. After a period of live activity, in 2025 they will release their debut album, "Rezo al agua", where Puerto Rico's bomba, an eminently rhythmic genre, expands to fuse with the colours and flavours of other Afro-Caribbean sounds. Tradition and folklore are embodied in a powerful and innovative conception.

In "Rezo al agua", Marina Molina expresses an attachment to the land, the landscape, the culture, the beliefs and the environment where she was born, Puerto Rico. She does this through bomba, one of the country's most identifying musical expressions. Bomba is as old as the slavery of those who gave birth to it in order to tell their tribulations and hopes, armed with the instrument they had at hand: the drums. It is a kind of meta-genre that includes a multitude of rhythmic varieties.

But Marina is something more than bomba, the legacy she received from her elders and which she does not wish to turn into a frozen object of veneration, an untouchable totem, mystical and ruled by norms bequeathed by the years. Marina, who has Colombian blood in her veins, is an artist of today, of a world in which cultures can mix, people migrate, influence each other, travel, exchange their cultural traces, can see online what happens at the other end of the world and thus open the window that facilitates the mixing of identities. These mixtures redraw borders and genres, allowing popular music to avoid its fossilization.

Marina grows in this fertile territory. She has a ductile and powerful voice, as clear as her strong, independent mindset. This is a remarkable element in the lyrics of the album, which despite being written from a current perspective, contain the sense that popular lyrics have always had: they explain life with the small letters of the everyday. And all this is presented in the bomba genre. Impure. There is an African guitar, a pedal steel guitar, a Wurlitzer, an accordion and everything that Marina and Miguelito Superstar, the album's producer, thought was necessary to accentuate the musicality of a full voice and drums that resonate raw with the vibration of tradition. A tradition now in the hands of a woman who aspires to her own space in life, to write her own chapter.

On ‘Cordial’, Ursula Sereghy traces the sensation of home; not as a place, but as something fleeting and deeply felt. Comfort appears in glimpses, nestled between moments of dissonance and unraveling structure. There is joy, but it carries the weight of absence, the quiet grief of realizing what was missing all along. A laughter that is both liberating and bittersweet.

Sereghy’s music moves with no fixed center, shedding hierarchies and opening itself to the unknown. Sounds unravel and reform: fragments of voices, reshaped textures, the shimmer of manipulated recordings all bending into semi-familiar contours. In this space, harmony is not a destination but an unfolding process, a web of shifting connections rather than rigid form.

Deeply drawn to natural processes, Sereghy’s music resonates with an elemental force: chemical reactions, unseen currents, the quiet logic of interconnection. Sound becomes a space where trust takes shape, where loss is acknowledged but never final, and where the act of feeling remains, above all, an act of survival. It is music in constant negotiation with itself - dismantling, reshaping, and reaching towards something vast, untethered and luminous.

A collaboration between US label Astral Spirits and Sweden’s Thanatosis Produktion, It could / If I marks the debut album from Stockholm-based duo Johan Jutterström (saxophone) and Alex Zethson (piano). Together, they reinterpret jazz standards and explore an eclectic mix of compositions by Leonard Cohen, Pet Shop Boys, John Lurie, and 19th-century composer Alexander Fesca.

Jutterström and Zethson’s musical partnership dates back to their teenage years, when they bonded over a love for jazz and the struggle to find their own voice within it. Their duo work has always been about navigating that tension—trying to capture jazz, failing, and finding another way forward. This album continues that pursuit, emphasizing not just what is played, but how it is played.

The record’s title reflects their approach: a process of reaching for something just out of grasp. Songs are deconstructed, rearranged, and treated like palimpsests—scrubbed clean and rewritten while allowing traces of the original to shine through. The result is a dynamic and deeply personal exploration of sound, filled with both reverence and reinvention.

Both musicians have extensive backgrounds in jazz, improvisation, and experimental music. Zethson, a prolific pianist and composer, has worked with ensembles like Fire! Orchestra and Trondheim Jazz Orchestra, and plays keyboards in ensembles such as Vilhelm Bromander Unfolding Orchestra, Goran Kajfes Tropiques, Vathres, and Angles (current with the jazzopera The Death of Kalypso). Jutterström, a saxophonist with an artistic PhD, has performed internationally and runs the ensemble STHLM svaga, a band who have performed commissioned pieces by jazz legends such as Ron Carter, Archie Shepp and Roscoe Mitchell.

With It could / If I, the duo crafts an intricate, ever-shifting dialogue—an ongoing attempt to "stick jazz music," as they put it, constantly approaching, never quite arriving, and finding beauty in the pursuit.

Lion, The Lion is Definition's summary of a phase of life. It roars with an unmistakable sense of strength, woven into every resonating beat and drifting melody.
Through shimmering synth textures, driving basslines, and subtle vocal traces, it carries you across a spectrum of emotional states—from feverish, pulsing energy to meditative introspection. Each track feels like a small yet significant battle won, a testament to resilience in the face of challenges. Percussion elements build tension, then dissolve into moments of calm, highlighting the dynamic interplay of fragility and power. Beneath its surface lies a constant wave of determination, anchoring the album’s softer elements in a foundation of raw strength.
Twisting tempos and sudden shifts in atmosphere propel you forward, ensuring that no section remains complacent or still. There is both grit and grace here, fused together in a complete experience that summons courage from the very first note. As the journey unfolds, a quiet resolve emerges, a promise of hope amid challenging times. Ultimately, the record stands as a moving ode to perseverance, asserting that true might resides not in grand gestures, but in the steady, unwavering pulse that keeps us going.

eaturing pieces for tenor saxophone and digital keyboard, and accented by traces of additional instruments, these songs sound a fated exchange mutually effortless and expansive. On »Greyhound Days« Patrick Shiroishi and Piotr Kurek makinespace for each other’s distinct voices as much as their eloquently mirrored gestures, sharing their attraction to intuitive expressions and the simple tenderness of first takes.

An imperial phase Actress commits a lushly amorphous installation piece made for the Berliner Festspiele to vinyl, rendering a post-industrial symphony full of iridescent shifts in gyring, OOBE-like spatial coordinates landing somewhere between nutopian ambient, kankyō ongaku and sawn-off bass science.

‘Grey Interiors’ was made in collaboration with Actual Objects and is an absorbing animation and navigation of those post-human ideals that have prompted Darren J. Cunningham to his best work across the preceding two decades. In its hypnagogic symphony of the elements, he short-circuits distinctions of classical music’s metric freedoms and the hyperspatial sensuality of concrète/electro-acoustic and ambient musics with an artistic license that has come to distinguish his work in the contemporary field, and arguably identified him as this generation’s most vital electronic abstractionist.

The first half of the album is bewitchingly airless, materialised in a twinkling vacuum. Naturalistic environmental recordings and a half-heard piano swirl around nauseous airlock whooshes and eerie bass drones. It's all pulverised to a powdery, shimmering residue; if Actress's music is defined by its character and texture - that sweet spot between the bedroom and the soundsystem - then this one advances the narrative without losing its backbone. And like a lot of his best work, it comes into its own on the back of zonked eyelids, conjuring a play of shifting geometric patterns within its imaginary physics and nuanced narration of ephemeral melodic phrasing and vaporous textures.

At about the halfway point, that dissociated piano finds its groove, coalescing into a jerky drum machine rhythm popping like bubbles in the stifling atmosphere. We can draw some intersecting lines here thru electronic music lore - traces of vintage AE, Push Button Objects, UR - but Actress always leaves an indelible fingerprint on anything he touches. Even when he's rubbing against the gallery-industrial complex, he manages to fill a stagnant space with electricity and wit; look at the title itself: is it a reference to the "landscape beyond man" as the installation's press release might have us believe, or the institutions themselves?

1970s New York: determined to emerge from his powerful father's shadow and make a name for himself in Manhattan real estate, aspiring mogul Donald Trump is in the earliest days of his career when he encounters the man who will become one of the most important figures in his life: political fixer Roy M. Cohn. Seeing promise in young Donald, the influential attorney--who secured espionage convictions against Julius and Ethel Rosenberg and investigated suspected Communists alongside Senator Joseph McCarthy--teaches his new acolyte how to amass wealth and power through deception, intimidation, and media manipulation. The rest is history.

“Eerie, wailing sounds over distorted feedback drones… Vibrato-heavy harmonies chirrup and throb in agonisingly slow motion.”
The Guardian, Album of the Month

“Cinematic...carefully orchestrated...delicately explores unfamiliar territory with uncanny finesse.”
The Wire

Acclaimed Icelandic theremin musician Hekla returns with Turnar, her third album of devastatingly heavy, spectral soundscape-songwriting, entering a sublime paranormal plane of haunting dread.

Now augmenting her virtuosic solo theremin work with cello, voice, and the sacred church organ of Icelandic master Kristján Hrannar, the evolution of Hekla’s unique magic summons new worlds with Turnar. The album was recorded partly in (and named after) a medieval castle tower in rural France, its ruinous black broken in spare beams of angelic stained-glass light. But, writes Hekla, “the sound of theremin kind of opens up a portal into a new realm that both looks into a dark old world and to the future.” The record is an alternately beautiful and crushing space voyage into a glacial underworld cascading with phosphorescence and cave drip, conjuring ancient choral ritual just as readily as redolent sci-fi gloam.

Opener “Inni” begins with swooning and shimmering lines of theremin that shiver with electrified energy before subfrequency bass elevates them into a glowing plasma, hovering above a crystallised surf. Key moment “Gráminn” wails with ghostly harmonics while distorted drones crash together in a stormy and blackened netherworld sea. It traces a neat progression from Hekla’s last album - the acclaimed Xiuxiuejar - while also welcoming an expanded timbral palette and flourishing compositional confidence. At the end of side A, “Var” delicately places sonic artefacts about a desolate negative space, creating a dense inverse gravity. As with the rest of the record, a claustrophobic gauze hangs over music that could otherwise be called subverted songwriting, aligning Hekla’s sonics with avant-garde, musique concréte and sound-art.

Altarf and Denev bring on no-nonsense minimal on 123.ro label. Enjoy the smooth and dark ride from this powerful duo.

While she was waiting for her last album 'Pripyat' to be released, Catalan composer and producer Marina Herlop was restless. She was concerned about her (by then) uncertain music career, and felt emotionally unmoored. "Some days I used to sit on the balcony of my flat to catch some sun," she explains, "I would close my eyes and start visualizing myself as a gardener, pulling out purple weeds from the soil, every bad memory or emotion I wanted to expulse being one of the plants." As the days dragged on, the fantasy deepened, and Herlop discovered that parts of the garden was withering; the energy she had been putting into the non-musical side of her life had seeped into her creative pasture and poisoned it. She knew what she needed to do to overcome the blight: plant some seeds and tend to her art to help it blossom and bloom once again. 'Nekkuja' is a place for Herlop's warmest, sweetest sentiments to rise to the surface and crack through the topsoil. She describes the record as a way for her to seek and affirm inner light, and it's undoubtedly her brightest, poppiest statement to date. The forward-thinking, experimental touches that nourished 'Pripyat' are still present, but blessed with a level of positivity that's rare to find in a scene so entranced by darkness and melancholy. Skittering fragments of ornate acoustic instrumentation provide a serene welcome to 'Busa', punctuated by precise electronic processes that shuttle the sound towards abstraction and fantasy. Herlop's voice grows over the tangle of sounds from a childish giggle into a layered, matted mantra, sounding passionate, hopeful and full of energy. The vitality spills over into 'Cosset', where she wraps powerful motifs around ricocheting beats and dramatic piano rolls. Herlop's garden opens up dramatically on 'Karada' when bucolic field recordings crack like sunlight over harp plucks and willowy vocals. Her voice seems to bend around the whooshing streams and chittering of birds as if she's singing to the manicured land itself - a utopian paradise that Herlop employs as a metaphor for the creative process. In contrast to the view that an artist is an isolated genius or an idol to be worshipped, Herlop believes that the garden helps us see the process as closer to devotion or perseverance. A gardener brings order to the wild chaos of the outdoors, collaborating with nature to arrange something vibrant and enduring. Blending familiar sounds with fanciful concepts, Herlop traces an imaginary garden, imploring us to wander and wonder. And by the album's billowing final track 'Babel', it's flowered into a flush of pruned vocal phrases and delicately groomed orchestral rushes, painted in orange, green, blue and red.

Writing music, for singer-songwriter and producer Fine, “feels like being entrusted with a secret.” On Rocky Top Ballads, the Copenhagen-based musician’s debut album, these secrets take the form of minimalist compositions that search for glimpses of beauty in the everyday. Recorded, produced, and mixed by Fine, the album is a mystical soundtrack to a captivating songwriter’s explorations of process and intuition.

“The whole album is about the moments when you see a crack in something,” Fine explains, “where you briefly see another side of yourself or of someone you've known forever.”

Fine grew up in Denmark’s rural Northern Jutland; there, her father’s guitar and banjo playing formed the sonic backdrop of her childhood. In the years since, her musical curiosity has led her to work across a range of styles and sounds. In her early twenties, she became part of Danish electronic trio Chinah, which released three albums. You might also have caught her sampled vocals on the joyfully rollicking Two Shell song “Home,” from 2021. Then, last year, she — along with Erika de Casier and Smerz — co-wrote three songs for the massive, critically lauded K-pop group New Jeans. Fine is also a part of Clarissa Connelly Canons group back home in Denmark, and writes music under the moniker Coined with composer and songwriter Astrid Sonne.

But Rocky Top Ballads is a turn back towards a more personal, stream-of-consciousness songwriting style. Fine wrote and recorded these songs sporadically over the course of the last few years. In light of Chinah’s collaborative, piecemeal production style, Fine craved a more organic, intuitive process for these songs. Her work on the record combines sample-based production with the sounds of instruments she and her collaborators could hold in their hands, ones that inspired free-flowing improvisation: electric and acoustic guitar, even the Ensoniq keyboard that was in her childhood home. The resulting songs are equally inspired by the country and folk of her childhood, the hazy beauty of Mazzy Star, the avant-garde pop of Dean Blunt, and the songwriting of ’90s singer-songwriters like Suzanne Vega.

Fine describes her songwriting process as a “magical thinking method”: being in contact with the present moment and pretending as if she already knows the song she’s about to write. Many of the songs on Rocky Top Ballads use the original takes of Fine’s vocals, an attempt to capture a song’s initial essence and avoid disturbing the song’s generative idea as much as possible. You can hear that well-preserved spark on songs like “Losing Tennessee,” a minimalist and wistful reflection on the inherent loss and change of growing older. She wrote other tracks, like the piano-led “Whys” and the woozy “Coasting,” through a process of cutting and layering her improvisations, carefully merging multiple musical snippets into newly seamless compositions. And the stunning closing track “A Star” is the product of a slow process of evolution: beginning as an understated expression of sincerity before dissolving into a rich, distorted guitar-driven exploration.

As a songwriter and producer, Fine’s work often peers into the universes of experience that can be hidden inside a fragmentary moment. Sometimes she explores this literally — as in “Days Incomplete,” which she built off a short sample from “A Star.” This impulse — to zoom in, to recontextualize, to excavate — threads throughout her lyrics, too. What happens, her songs ask, when we pay close attention to those everyday images and physical realities we might otherwise ignore: the sky, the rain, the sun, the sea? On the spacious and swoony “Big Muzzy,” with its gentle sway and Cocteau Twins-inflected vocals, Fine sings about watching the “summer turn blue”; the grooving, propulsive “Remember The Heart” is a love letter to the sea where she grew up. In her airy voice, Fine traces meandering melodies that continually unspool with fresh insights.

A particular mantra guided Fine’s songwriting throughout the creation of Rocky Top Ballads: “Everything has potential.” In these songs, small moments are worthy of deep contemplation, and gentleness can evoke worlds of emotion. The resulting songs offer a gift of momentary pleasure, flowing and unhurried as a gentle breeze.

Marissa Lorusso

"This record explores the relationships between mid century architecture, consumerism and community. The gradual or sometimes brutal removal and change of places in the name of progress. These changes leave traces that people have to deal with on a psychological level but probably never really acknowledge. This record explores loss of community and loss or unsympathetic altering of shopping spaces. When something is unceremoniously knocked down or altered and something else replaces it then the thing before it becomes ghost like and is at risk of being forgotten. Not dissimilar to when the Christian faith built their buildings upon Pagan sites. It has a similar purpose (to pray or to shop in this case) but the older thing becomes dreamlike and is confined to folklore. The community is always fed the propaganda of progress but looking back, I certainly cannot deny the beauty of what has now gone. Maybe there is a sense of dissolution and denial about such matters. The record is also interested in the sense of community of these past spaces and how shopping centres have generally declined mainly due to the rise of neo liberalism and tech giants. When you see old footage of these spaces in their prime, you get a sense of a space age future, everything looks new but paradoxically the people look to be from an older time. Today I can see real poverty and complete disenfranchisement from being in these new spaces. It's not all doom and gloom though as spaces, especially the ones in Plymouth are not that much altered and could be brought back to the architects original dreams."

David A.

In 1967, in the midst of Franco's dictatorship, a group of seminarians created a rock band: Enarak. They played pop, rock and psychedelia, styles that were strange in the society of the time and, only in Basque. Faced with a society that found these rhythms strange, they had the courage to play blues, psychedelia and progressive rock in Basque. In 1969 they recorded and released three songs and, over the next four years, they gave hundreds of concerts all over the Basque Country. The last one, in Larraitz, in the shadow of Mount Txindoki, on 31 October 1971. On a cold, misty night lit by a full moon, they brought together some 5,000 young people with the intention of enjoying modern music. After that night, they disappeared forever. Their only traces are the three songs you will find on this album. With the aim of recovering and making the history of the group known, the Bira Produkzioak cooperative has produced a documentary entitled 'Enarak'. Using the power of cinema for social transformation, we are organizing a concert on 21 May 2023. Again in Larraitz, Amorante, Rüdiger and Liher covered the three songs of Enarak. This is not just an album or a concert in the usual way. It is an exorcism, a ritual for the resurrection of Enarak, a historical piece and, at the same time, an object of memory that encapsulates the soul of the late 60s Basque group. In 1969 they recorded the original EP consisting of three songs including a version of the popular song "Solferinoko istua" and "Ama" and "Bañan ez", band's own compositions. The B side songs of this release are performed live in 2023 by Amorante, Rüdiger and Liher.

Lara Sarkissian’s long-awaited debut full-length, ‘Remnants’ is an ornate patchwork of ancient and modern sonic shapes that uses the vernacular of electronic music to reformulate Armenian traditions and memories. Taking digitally modeled instruments (such as the kanun, a large zither, and the duduk, an ancient double reed woodwind instrument), vocals, davul and dhol drums, tenor saxophone (from acclaimed Paris-based player Adrien Soleiman) and myriad electronic elements and techniques, Sarkissian tangles the old and the new, creating an immersive, narrative-driven experience that’s powered by history, mythology and her own familial connection to the West Asian landscape. It’s an album that’s best absorbed like a film; only multiple encounters can reveal its layered themes and references to industrial music, noise, various club styles, ambient and traditional folk.

Born and raised in San Francisco and currently based in Los Angeles, Sarkissian has developed her unique approach to composition over years of relentless experimentation across various disciplines. Her interest in music production initially stemmed from her filmmaking and video editing work, when she began to sculpt her own sound collages and scores to accompany the visuals. Since then, she’s constantly blurred the boundary between dance and experimental music, DJing around the world, producing AV installations and scoring film and video projects that have been exhibited in Berlin’s Gropius Bau, Montréal’s Musée d’art contemporain, the Music Center Los Angeles and other prestigious institutions, and releasing music with labels such as Tresor, Knekelhuis, All Centre, Silva Electronics and CLUB CHAI, the label and event series she co-founded. In recent years, she’s also been able to advance the theory behind her art, publishing a conversation with ethnomusicologist Sylvia Alajaji in the Journal of the Society of Armenian Studies in 2021, and unveiling her methodology in Norient’s ‘This Track Contains Politics – The Culture of Sampling in Experimental Electronica’ a year later.

‘Remnants’ is a new stage in Sarkissian’s evolution as an artist; not only is it her first proper album, but it’s the inaugural release on her new platform btwn Earth+Sky. She sees the label as a place to encourage collaborations between musicians and producers and prioritize sound in visual arts realms, and ‘Remnants’ is the ideal proof of concept. It opens with ‘Heaven, or Paradise; and Hell’, a track that’s inspired by the layout of the Armenian sharakan (or hymn) ‘Aravot Luso’. Sarkissian imagines the original piece’s harmonies and melodies as parts of a dreamy electronic opera, using digital kanun sounds to punctuate her woozy, evocative synths. Soleimen joins on tenor sax in the third act, while Sarkissian repeats the chant and Jace Akira adds ghostly traces of electric guitar and bass. And on the rousing ‘Our Dead Can’t Rest (Old Jugha Flute Dance)’, Sarkissian chops urgent davul and dhol drum rhythms with spine-chilling shvi woodwind sounds lifted from a documentary about Old Jugha. The title is a reference to the moving of graves by Armenian families; the area initially housed over 10,000 elaborately carved khachkars (cross stones), one of which is pictured on the album’s cover, provided by historian Argam Aivazian’s archive.

On ‘Miracle’, Sarkissian samples atmospheres from the post-Soviet Armenian comedy film ‘Կիսանդրի’ (Kisandri). She takes this opportunity to lighten the mood a little, powdering her smudged samples with tightly edited breaks and bass thumps. It’s not until the album’s middle section that the duduk, perhaps Armenia’s best-known instrument, makes its appearance. Its familiar reedy tones, popularized by Djivan Gasparyan on his many Hollywood soundtrack appearances, emerge on ‘Unraveling (Interlude)’, weaving through the acidic ‘Zephyr’ and ‘Far from the eye far from the Heart’, a post-punk inspired stomper. Sarkissian mutates the instrument almost beyond recognition, pitching and layering it into a voice-like wail that creeps between her woody, dancefloor-primed percussion on the former, and turning it into a gentle, ghostly moan on the latter. And she brings ‘Remnants’ to a close with two of her most cryptic tracks, marrying digital kanun strings with Soleiman’s resonant tenor hums on ‘What Solace Can I Give’, and looping the same saxophone sounds until they dissolve into the air on the beatless closer ‘…nothing matters more than touching you although i haven’t touched you yet’.

It’s an album that ties up Sarkissian’s various interests and experiences, finding a romantic, poetic glimmer of light in history’s darkness. But most of all, ‘Remnants’ is about the optimism of starting anew, and rebuilding a life from the pieces of everything that’s been left behind.